


Chaos Theory

by mikeginsanity (blahblahwahwah)



Series: Chaos [1]
Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Friendship/Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, pre-105
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-20 10:38:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8245985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blahblahwahwah/pseuds/mikeginsanity
Summary: In the middle of what is the biggest media outrage that Ginny's about to face Amelia realizes that there's another storm brewing under the horizon - and it scares her more.Based off 1x03 and 1x04.Canon Divergencey after 1x05.





	1. A violation of trust

**Author's Note:**

> Please not I wrote this fic before 105 aired.

Amelia hates to admit it, but she spent most of her professional life with the misapprehension that sports people were dumb jocks irrespective of their gender, race or background.  It’s not that she disliked or resented them, it was just this classical cliché stereotype in her head. A stereotype that was extended to both male and female sportspersons.

A _cliché_ that Ginny Baker took in her hands and ripped to shreds.

She knows Ginny is a bankable investment the day she sees that girl that first time in Texas. She serendipitously learns that Ginny was far more mature and intelligent than expected for her age or her education, that first month after she signs her on. But, she also learns that for all the innocence, passion and charm that Ginny wore on her face, making her irresistible to people around her – Ginny’s trust doesn’t come easily. It has to be earned.

It’s why Amelia likes her. It’s why Amelia cares about her, genuinely. It’s also why Amelia makes the effort and she doesn’t regret it. Not one bit.  Because, once trust is earned, one is rewarded with a fierce unfazing loyalty from Ginny Baker. It is new to Amelia – to have that from a client – to the point of friendship. It makes her feel privileged in many ways.

“She’s something.” Amelia had remarked to Will, just after they signed the contracts and Ginny excuses herself to go to the bathroom.

“Y’know.” Will said, regarding her pensively. “Me and Dad, we spent our whole lives training her to face every possible battle, every possible outcome. She’s a warrior, not just a player.”

“I agree…” Amelia said, condescendingly, distracted by her phone.

“There’s one thing, we didn’t train her for though.” Will said, getting Amelia’s attention.

Amelia half expected him to tout out something philosophical - perils and price of fame and fortune or the something of the like.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Amelia said, glancing up between her frantic texting.

“A broken heart.”

Amelia’s thumb stilled over the screen. Will looked at her pointedly.

At first, she misunderstood. Ginny was just out of her teens, after all.  “Is there someone she’s…” Amelia starts to say slowly.

He chuckles dismissively.  “Contrary to what you media types may believe, Ms. Slater, it’s not romance or love that breaks your heart – it’s a violation of trust – a shattered faith in the person you place that trust in.”

Amelia knew all too well what that felt like.

“That girl’s made of solid metal,” Will said. “There ain’t nothing you can’t throw at her that she won’t hit back at. But you break her heart, you break her spirit. And I dunno if she’ll ever come back from that.”

Amelia smiled at Will. She found herself awed that a pair of middle class, unknown, simple but strong hearted siblings could impress her more than a celebrity or a politician.   

She promised that she’d look out for Ginny. A promise that Will accepted with an apprehensive nod.

And. Amelia Slater doesn’t make promises she can’t keep.

Until she meets Mike Lawson.

Amelia doesn’t believe in idolizing. She loves people who idolized though –  for the sake of her job. It made it so easy to take advantage of the average idiot desire to place people on pedestals – and Amelia was craftily building a pedestal that would be bigger than Caesar’s podium. And Ginny Baker was to be seated on that throne.

But Ginny had an idol of her own.

The initial image she had of Mike Lawson was this lean, young, clean shaven guy from what she had seen up on the posters in Ginny’s bedroom. Amelia found it cute that Ginny worshipped the guy – so much that she might as well be gushing and sighing over him. So, she researched Lawson – because he had to have been _somebody_ if Ginny thought he was the bees knees.

Amelia developed some concern about Ginny’s crush-object as they came closer to the day she started out with the Padres. After all – despite his credibility and impressive game statistics, Lawson had a reputation as a lothario. But, when Elliot showed her a picture of the present day captain of the _Padres_ , she laughed out loud. He was still a great ball player, sure – cocky, charming, sure – but he might has well have been an heir-to-Santa Claus.

Maybe, she thought when she saw his picture, Ginny wouldn’t have so much trouble getting over her crush when she saw him up-front.

How wrong she was. Because next thing Amelia knows, she’s got a crush too.

Amelia had developed a begrudging respect for Lawson from a distance, the first week that Ginny spent with the Padres. That day when Ginny Baker shined, tearing out of the mould of stereotype and prejudice, the whole world, including Amelia, had only Mike Lawson to credit.

Elliot pointed out that social media got all frenzied about the ‘conversation’ that Lawson had with Ginny up on that mound before her flaccid wild pitches suddenly did a solid one-eighty earning her a series of brilliant strike-outs. His review of all social media discussion indicated that people were getting hyped up by the pitcher-catcher dynamic. It only escalated with subsequent games.

 “Hmm.” She remarked, dispassionately while they were reviewing strategy, after Elliot explained why people were so absorbed with that. “It almost feels like a political endorsement.”

She narrowed her eyes at _that_ picture of Lawson and Ginny huddled in discussion, the speech he gave her just before she took out the Dodger’s batter.

“He’s good for her.” She told Elliot. “Try and get as many pictures of them on the field, interacting. Especially those discussions they have up at the mound.”

“You want to promote a guy, who’s _not_ our client.” Elliot looked up at her quizzically. “You do know that Lawson is bigger for hardcore baseball fans than Ginny.”

“Please!” Amelia brushed it off. “He can’t hold a candle to Ginny’s personality. He looks like a bear! And I don’t care about baseball fans – her audience is bigger. His ‘cooperation’ with her, ups her credibility as a ball player.  You promote his mentorship, subliminally you promote Ginny as well.”

“Pure genius!” Elliot applauded.

Amelia sneered. She thought so too. That’s why she made the big bucks. 

All that was before LA.

Before she actually _met_ Lawson.

He oozed a sort of virile personality, that Amelia didn’t quite know what to make of. There was the quiet, intense, perceptive way in which he looked at people – like he could gauge their personalities or motivations just by looking at them.

When he approached her that night at the bar in LA, she had put her attraction down to simply an itch that she needed scratched. He scratched the itch, alright. Only to become an itch in itself.

What’s supposed to be a one-night stand turned to fuck buddies is starting to get complicated for her. Mike is very cool and he’s not really stated that he _doesn’t_ want a relationship but he’s not stated that he _does_ want one either. Actually, there’s no statements between them – just lots of really good sex. The rumours aren’t wrong about how good he is.  But, they’re sort of that the stage where it’s more than about the sex.

Inside all her guns and ammo exterior, Amelia’s always painfully aware of the pathetic desire to not be alone. She doesn’t apologize for it – it’s just that it gets in the way sometimes when she’s trying to focus. Now the desire is getting front and centre and not allowing her to move forward.

Amelia is like a hawk. She’s always on top of everything and she makes it her business to be aware of everything around her. Amelia sees the adulation for him in Ginny’s expressive eyes growing with time. It puts her in an edgy situation. It would have been easier if Ginny didn’t still venerate Lawson.

Thing is, being with Lawson is making her lose focus, and she’s acutely aware of it. Any other person, she’d have dropped him like a bad habit. But – this isn’t any other situation. She likes Lawson. A lot.

She thinks about breaking it off before it becomes weird – well – weird- _er._

But, maybe not just yet, she thinks with Mike goes down on her that night.

A decision she regrets the next morning.

 

In retrospect, she thinks the signs were all there. How closed off and pensive Ginny had become. The suspicious looks Ginny gives her whenever she came upon her and Mike even in the slightest proximity to each other. The way Ginny avoids them if they are talking to each other. How calculated Ginny’s words were these days.

Amelia was so wrapped up in finishing up and rushing to Lawson for her nightly sex fix that she never really gave much thought to how Ginny was slowly changing.

The morning of – what Amelia would like to name as the - ‘wake-up call’. She’s getting dressed in Mike’s bedroom when she hears him call out to her. The yummy smell of waffles wafts through – because Mike’s starting to include her when he plans breakfast nowadays. She skips down with a wide fulfilled grin and stops dead in her track at the bottom of the stairs.

Elliot is standing there, looking nervous.

Like – really nervous.

“What happened?” Amelia snaps. She doesn’t care about appearances now (though thank god she had the sense to button her blouse fully). Elliot having that look on his face can only mean trouble. And only one thing is important enough to trouble Amelia – and that’s Ginny Baker.

Elliot shifts uncomfortably, looking between Mike and Amelia. Mike pretends to be unconcerned. He’s reaching for his coffee.

“Is she okay?” Amelia storms down, brushing past Mike and retrieving her bag. “Did something happen?”

She notices Mike’s arm still just as he braces the cup. He straightens up and looks on intensely at Elliot. Like he’s expecting the answer as well.

“Er…” Elliot hesitates.

Amelia scrolls her phone. Odd – no errant mails, no scary feeds, no news even. She swipes to her call logs and then gasps. There are at least a dozen missed calls from Ginny.

She looks up at Elliot who's just gawping at them both and growls. “What? What's going on?”

Elliot jumps. He swallows and then looks at Mike nervously.

“Do you want me to leave?” Lawson asks.

He nods.

“No, stay.” Amelia says – and she cannot fathom why she says that. She realized earlier that she’s starting to draw comfort from Lawson’s calming presence on some subconscious level. She’s starting to see why Ginny looks up to him.

“Er –“ Elliot starts. “Ginny called last night. She couldn’t get through to you.”

Amelia feels a wave of guilt and apprehension rising within her. She scowls at Elliot, waving her hand to make him speak faster.

“She said – um – she said a story’s about to break.”

“What story?”

“A story about – her and…Trevor Davis.”

"Who?"

"The catcher, from the Cardinals? You know that guy..."

The guy Ginny Baker had gotten into a brawl with, he doesn't say - but Amelia pieces it. 

“What?” Amelia frowns. From the corner of her eyes, she sees Mike’s head cock to the side. She ignores it. “There can’t be a story about her and Davis. There _is_ no story.” She says, assertively.

Elliot sighs. His nervous apprehension disappears suddenly, and he starts to talk. He tells her about Davis and Ginny. About the hack on Davis’ account. About personal photographs that are going to go viral within the next twelve hours. How Ginny called and told him about it. How calm Ginny seems despite how potentially dangerous this is.

Amelia’s so stunned, she’s forced to sit. She glances towards Mike dumbfounded and notices that he looks worried. But there’s something else too. She can’t figure out what. 

“How is it?” Amelia bites out, when she finds her words. “That you know this before I do. That _anyone_ knows this before I do?”

“I told you - Ginny called me last night because she couldn’t get to you….” He starts to say. “Some reporter called her asking for a comment…”

Amelia cuts him off. As a rule, Amelia never separates herself from her phone but last night she was too distracted. She doesn’t need to be reminded of how Ginny was trying to reach her and how she was too busy getting her brains fucked out to be reached. She doesn’t need to be reminded on how she screwed up. She knows it. She can't focus on it. No, right now, she has to fix this. Fix everything.

She frantically gathers her things and gives an apologetic glance towards Mike – while she barks damage control orders to Elliot. Despite her frenzy, she notices that Mike’s expression has turned unreadable. The furrows in his head have disappeared, he’s just regarding her and Elliot carefully, paying attention to every word exchanged. Though, he seems all stoic and unconcerned, she can tell that there’s something cold and unpleasant in his eyes.

“Hey Elliot.” She says, as an afterthought, walking towards Lawson to give him a peck on his cheek. “Just don’t tell Ginny about this.”

She notices that Lawson doesn’t respond. He’s perfectly unmoved. His eyes are laser-focussed on Elliot.

“About what?” Elliot says, helping her with her bag.

“Me and Mike.” She says, sheepishly, gesturing to Lawson.

That look on Mike’s face is really odd – because he doesn’t seem to care much about Elliot’s reaction. It’s like his mind is occupied with something.

“Er.” Elliot looks more surprised.

“What?” She says.

“Nothing,” He says. “It’s just weird.”

“What is?”

“I mean I tried to call you too and couldn’t get through. I pinged your phone but it didn't catch. I mean, it _was_ crazy last night and…so…” He rambles.

“Elliot!” Amelia sighs. “What is weird?”

“It’s just that…” Elliot looks at Lawson and then at her. “Ginny’s the one who told me where to find you. She said you’d be with…” He looks at Lawson and gestures. “With him.”

Amelia feels the blood drain from her face. She looks at Lawson and back at Elliot.

Elliot shrugs. “I’ll keep your secret Amelia, but…I think she already knows.”

Amelia gasps and shakes her head, unable to wrap around how Ginny would have found out. She looks at Lawson, helpless, wondering what he thinks. He slowly lifts his coffee cup to his lips. She notices how his eyes soften suddenly, how his beard twitches when he widens his mouth - a small knowing smile appears at the corner.

_No…_

“Did you tell her?” Amelia hisses, accusatorily.

He doesn’t get defensive or bothered. He shakes his head calmly as he gulps the drink down.

“Then, how could she have known?” Amelia says, adjusting herself so she can leave. “And how is it that I didn’t know that she knew?”

“I’ve told you, before, Amelia.” Lawson says, reaching for a slice of toast. “Ginny’s a big girl. She’s a lot tougher than you think.”

Amelia shakes her head exasperatedly and follows Eliot to the door.

“A lot smarter too.” She hears him remark as she heads out.

 


	2. Losing control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So thank you for those reviews. They actually spur me through writers block.  
> As promised a quick update.

Taking your average star-on-the-rise and making them into a worldwide sensation is the easy. Take whatever bit of charm and appeal they have and amplify it. Use a propagandist approach, bombard the public repetitively with the face that publicist wants to project and make everyone think they want a piece of the person – even if they actually don’t want it.

The problems usually start _after_ the fame and glory. Skeletons tumbling out of their closets, unchecked outbursts of rage and frustration, those bad romantic choices, the secret addictions, those repressed personality disorders.

But, what makes Amelia Slater so good at her job is that she’s never fazed by the baggage her clients bring on. Because, she’s almost _never_ surprised. She operates under the philosophy that everybody lies and everybody’s entitled to.

And what makes Amelia so good at handling clients is control. She hand-holds, consoles, cheers-up , riles-up and eggs on. She’s the BFF when needed - the philosopher, the priest, the parent, the publicist, the psychologist, the fixer – whatever she needs to be. But all that is just her way to build trust. There is nothing like trust from her client when she needs to steer them the way she wants them to go. Her ex accused her of having an overinflated ego because she simply couldn’t process the word ‘No.’ That it would be her downfall – he said. Amelia disagrees – she doesn’t believe in ‘can’t’s or ‘no’s’ because Amelia knows what works and what doesn’t.

Amelia is a control freak and she _always,_ always controls the narrative.

Which is why, in every possibly way Ginny Baker is as refreshing as and as an ideal a client.

There’s very little she needs to buff up when it comes to Ginny Baker. She’s got a charisma that makes her irresistible even without a camera in her face. She’s got good ol’ middle class charm that makes her relatable.  She’s got that killer smile, that approachable personality and that radiance that makes her a magnet for attention. But, what’s remarkable about her is that she doesn’t have any dubious vices, she’s got no ugly secrets – and she’s polite and down to earth. She’s also the most disciplined athlete and the hardest worker that Amelia’s ever come across. What’s the icing on the cake? The girl takes nothing for granted. She’s realistic.

She’s the client that Amelia _likes_. She’s the client that Amelia _cares_ for. Amelia will pull out all stops to control everything for Ginny, on behalf of Ginny – and she won’t stop if it means, having to control Ginny herself.

But in that moment – Amelia is out of control. She can’t steer when she’s out of control.

“Did you think she loved him?” Amelia asked, while she texted the best lawyer she knew. “She’s iron clad on the ‘no dating ballplayers’ thing, so Davis had to be something, if she broke the rule.”

“They were together for a brief while.” Elliot paraphrased Ginny. “They kept it quiet. It didn’t end well. It looked like she did.” Elliot said slowly. “I mean, she wasn’t freaking out or anything. She just looked sad.”

Amelia looked up at him, feeling a twinge of sympathy for Ginny. A twinge – is all she allowed herself. Amelia couldn’t afford to get caught up in emotions. Especially not that colossal wave of self-loathing she felt that Elliot was the one updating her. Or that Ginny was unable to tell her directly – because Amelia wasn’t there.

Amelia wonders if this is how Ginny feels with the crushing weight of expectations of those hopefully little girls plagues her.  Ginny represents all the innocent little girls for Amelia, looking up to her from help, support – guidance, protection. 

And what was Amelia doing when she needed her the most?

Screwing the one guy that Ginny idolized.

Amelia doesn’t allow that thought to take root. Instead, she focuses on Trevor Davis.

If Trevor Davis is a secret, Amelia knows he’s not a _dirty_ one. He’s a solid player, a standup guy and he’s likeable. He doesn’t have a bad reputation among women, he personally has no dubious vices or dirty bedroom fetishes. There’s no evidence to suggest he’s reckless – even on field.

Even if he was reckless, even if he was your usual ball-player caught screwing a prostitute – this would barely be a sneeze in the great swarm of the 24-hour-news cycle. The only reason this story is going to blow up in everyone’s face is because that man had at some point his penis inside _Ginny Baker_.

 _I’m sorry. I’ll fix this._ That text to Ginny was the only correspondence that Amelia could afford while she was attempting to mitigate the situation. (She also dropped a follow up text to Lawson reminding him not to disclose that he overheard anything – especially not Ginny.)

She knew there would be no reply for the next four hours or so because those are Ginny’s training hours. It allowed her to get to work. She had been neck deep trying to track down who had the photographs and who was behind the leak. She’d spent the whole morning on conference calls screaming at everyone and their uncle trying to nip it. _No one_ – no one could figure out _who_ had the pictures.

Panic would be an understatement to what Amelia feels right now.

It’s 2:00 pm, Her heels click furiously as she storms her way into the functional training zone at Petco.

“TMZ says they’ll be getting source-verified pictures by 7.00 pm.” Elliot says, chewing nervously on the stylus of his tablet as he lags behind her “Even if you paid them a million, they’re still gonna run it. This story is bigger.”

Nope.

That’s not why Amelia’s freaking out.

Not because the story might break any second, not because Ginny’s going to be thronged by a whole mob of reporters, fans and haters. Not because this might rattle Ginny’s precarious position with the MLB, or destroy the begrudging respect she’s earning at a _snail’s pace_ among her teammates. No – not even because Trevor’s agent is being a supreme dick and won’t let her talk to him. Not even because Elliot’s tech friend finally pulled the photos – and they’re definitely steamy.

Nope.

Amelia’s freaking the fuck out because she has to face Ginny in a state of complete chaos. She has to face Ginny with the knowledge that she failed her.

Amelia hears the sound of whacking and punching before she turns around the corner and sees Ginny.

Ginny’s trainer holds the bag, encouraging her, but looking wary at the same time. When Amelia glances towards Elliot, she lets out an amused snort, shaking her head. He’s just – staring at Ginny with his mouth slightly open, stupefied.

The sunlight filters in just at the right angle and make Ginny look like an athletic vision. That Nubian goddess look, coupled with that gorgeous skin that glistened gloriously from the sheen of sweat – it had to be pure inspiration for an artistic photo shoot.

(Amelia’s more than once tried to convince Ginny to let her be photographed while she trains – but for some reason training is sacrosanct to Ginny.)

“How about we stop for a bit?” The trainer asks Ginny, when he sees them.

Ginny ignores him and keeps punching. Her beautifully carved arm muscles move poetically in tandem when she throws punches.

“Ginny!” Amelia calls out.

Ginny’s eyes shift towards her once before they focus back on the bag with laser intensity.

For a brief second Amelia’s filled with a sense of protectiveness.

She’s just a child - her Ginny Baker. This girl with a big heart and a big dream. Right then, she looks like a perfectly toned light-weight fighter with her boxing gloves. Amelia thinks she would have made a fine champion and role model for women’s boxing. It would have been easier to sell too. But Ginny Baker doesn’t do easy (neither does Amelia Slater). She does the impossible (so does Amelia Slater).

“Ginny!” Amelia says, coming into her range of vision, nodding at Ginny’s trainer. “When did you take up boxing?”

“Arm strength.” Ginny huffs as she pummels, not meeting Amelia’s eyes. Amelia hasn’t a clue what that means.

“So umm…” Amelia swallows. “Can we have some privacy?”

Ginny slams her gloved fist into the bag one last time before she redirects her gaze at Amelia. She breathes furiously to catch her breath and braces her knees, bending. She looks up at her trainer and asks for ten minutes.

“I’m sorry, Ginny.” Amelia says, once it’s just her, Eliot and Ginny. “I’m sorry, but the story’s going to break. We’re still trying but I don’t know if I can stop it. It’s not like we can buy out the negatives any more – it’s the digital age.”

Ginny nods and then straightens up.

“I’ve prepared a statement.” Ginny says, starting to do her stretches. “I emailed it to Elliot this morning.”

Eliot looks panicked for a second. He grabs his phone and starts pawing at it – as though he probably missed the email.

“You’ve prepared a…oh!” Amelia is surprised. “That’s our job, Ginny. You shouldn’t have bothered with that.”

“I figured you were busy.” Ginny says, calmly, stretching her knees -  not looking at Amelia.

“Ginny,” Amelia sighs, sadly. “Mike and I…”

“Apparently!” Ginny says, snapping up straight. Amelia sees tears glistening in Ginny’s eyes. “I’m the only woman in the world who’s not allowed to love if I wanna keep my job.”

Amelia stares.

“I dunno…” Ginny shakes her head, wincing. “If a guy at work buys me a drink. If he’s in my line of work, and he’s cute and he seems to like me – I’m not allowed to have a relationship with him. I’m not allowed to be seen with him, I’m not even allowed to take private pictures with him.”

She hears what Ginny is saying: _You’re allowed to hook up with anyone and I’m not allowed to be with a guy had feelings for._

 “Ginny, there’s no need to panic.” Amelia says, slowly, reassuringly. “We control the narrative, remember? If those pictures come out we’ll bring the spin the story, we’ll make you a victim of misogyny and the entire might of the feminism will be behind you on this. I’ve already got a legal team on this. This is the age of…”

“My tits, my ass and my cunt are everybody’s business –“ Ginny’s mouth twists, her voice wavers. “- but my heart – and my feelings…” She winces and a lone tear spills out. “They don’t mean anything.”

Amelia feels like someone kicked her in the stomach. Elliot looks down at his phone, but she can see he has that pathetic expression that reflects what she feels just about then.

One of the perks of having a genius IQ and a minor in behavioural psychology is that Amelia’s able to zone in the underlying complexes inside people and use it for. It’s what allows Amelia to manipulate people into doing things her way. The Amelia Slater way.

Among Ginny’s few vulnerabilities, is that teensy flaw in as much that she constantly strives to please. She hides it under a carefully erected wall of cheery dimpled smiles, clenched jaws and quiet unperturbed poker faces – but that girl has a true, soft and emotional heart, that’s clamouring for approval.

Amelia had shamelessly exploited Ginny’s weakness for the better part of the last two and half years. Now’s about the time for payback, Amelia reckons. Because, she feels helpless. She’s supposed to be controlling Ginny’s emotions with the right words and the right gestures. She’s supposed to be firing orders to control the ebbing fuckfest that’s going to explode. She’s supposed to do something to fix this.

She wants nothing more than to offer herself up to Ginnny in place of that punching bag. She wants to hug the girl, let her cry it out or vent it out. Anything that’ll make Ginny feel better.

“Geez Baker!”

The voice that interrupts the painful silence is male, the tone is stern and distinctive. They turn their heads to find Lawson standing there, leaning against a bench-press with his arms folded; wearing gym shorts and a sleeveless-tee.

His voice is pleasant, and his face is filled with humor. “That bag’s probably already died out of boredom!”

“How long have you been standing there?” Amelia hisses, as he crosses her towards Ginny.

“Long enough.” Mike mutters audibly, scratching his beard, but he’s not looking at her. His eyes are locked with Ginny’s. Amelia watches as Ginny follows his movements as he straightens up and comes around.

Ginny snorts indignantly, pats the bag and starts to punch at it. They’re all at an impasse. Amelia standing transfixed at the vehement angry punches Ginny throws repetitively and Lawson quietly slinking into her field of vision.

“Who told you to take up boxing?” He ribs at her. “You suck at it!”

“You did.” Ginny pants out, pretending like she wasn’t about to cry just seconds ago. She flexes her deltoid and pats it with her glove with a plastered smile. “See, it’s stronger already.”

“Hah!” Mike retorts, grabbing the bag and holding it, while she punches, tilting his head at Baker. “It looks like you’re just about pop your shoulder if you keep at it like that.”

That -

\- It’s like someone hit the emergency stop and the robot powers down.

The stress on Ginny’s face abates, and she stops and makes a face at Lawson. Amelia watches dazed as Ginny’s mouth widens and her dimples gleam.

It’s almost like they all imagined the impending selfie-gate that’s about to happen.

“The only one popping shoulders here is you – old man.” Ginny grins and shakes her head.

Amelia watches how Lawson’s face changes from stoic to this – what is that? Is it affection? His eyes go all crinkly and he bares his teeth in an amused grin.

“So you know?” Ginny says, her face changing back to seriousness, changing her stance. She glances once at Amelia and back at Mike.

“Know what?” He says, going around. Ginny’s eyes follow him with a knowing look.

“Baker, I don’t know anything you don’t want me to know.” Mike says, going behind her. He sticks his foot in between her legs to widen her stance. Amelia inhales involuntarily, when he grabs Ginny waist from behind and angles her body.

He says something that’s inaudible, with only Ginny in earshot. Ginny chuckles and rolls her eyes – it’s not a blushy giggly chuckle – more like an insider joke between partners. Amelia looks at Eliot – who’s not nervous at all, in fact they’re interaction doesn’t seem to make him uncomfortable one bit. He looks at them like he’s in awe of them both. Amelia wonders if it’s all in her head.

Mike’s got his eyes trailed over the side of Ginny’s face. Amelia’s gaze is pinned on the sight of his fingers lingering on Ginny’s waist.  She notices how Ginny’s face changes, but not to the point where she blushes or shies away. She notices the way Mike’s breathing changes when he touches her, but not to the point where he hesitates. She notices them constantly looking at each other, smiling goofily and then looking away – and then they do it again.

She notices that they’re completely oblivious to her presence. Or Eliot’s.  She feels like someone teleported her into some sort of time-space hole where she’s trapped on the seeing end of a two-way mirror and only Mike and Ginny are in the room.

At some point Lawson meets her eyes and then his face goes blank. Within seconds a cool expression overtakes his countenance. He backs away and shrugs at Amelia, as though what she witnessed is no big deal. And, about as much as he registers her presence, within seconds Ginny’s focus is back on her as well.

“Ginny…” Amelia says, but can’t seem to recollect what she wants to say. Amelia’s eyes are on Mike who’s standing a foot behind Ginny, with his arms folded defensively. It’s like looking at an exotic princess with her Nordic defender standing guard besides her.

Mike clears his throat and gives Amelia a peculiar look.

“You two should go.” He says, when Amelia doesn’t take the hint. “This is a restricted area.”

Eliot looks on nervously and then shrugs.

Amelia feels her temper stirred and she’s about to snap at Lawson when Ginny intervenes. “I’m sorry I bit your head off, Amelia.” Ginny says, sheepishly. “You do what you have to fix this. If it’s gonna break, then we’ll come up with something. It’s nothing we can’t handle together, right?”

Amelia's anger is instantly mitigated by a mix of pity, pride, guilt and relief. Ginny looks like she means her words. Like, she’s not entirely thrown Amelia out of her list-of-trustees. She sighs in relief, steels up her face, nods at Ginny and leaves the room, following after Eliot.

Except – but she doesn’t _leave_ leave. She sneaks behind the wall – and she doesn’t know why except that there’s a suspicious feeling in the pit of her stomach. Eliot’s standing there and he looks at her like she’s crazy. She gestures for him to stay silent and plasters the side of her face to the door-frame

“So,” She hears Lawson say. “You okay?”

“You know everything.” She hears Ginny state. The sound of gentle thwacks ensue.

“I know _something_. I’m sorry Baker.” She hears Mike say.

“That’s okay. I guess I have to face it at some point.” She hears Ginny speak, between thwacks.

There’s a small silence – filled with the sound of the punching bag.

“So you and Davis?” He finally pipes up.

“Yeah.” She answers quickly.

“Was it serious?”

The punching sounds die down, as though Ginny’s stopped. There’s a long pause. Amelia peeks around the doorframe.

Ginny’s back is to her. She’s taken to sitting on the floor, cross-legged, with her shoulders hunched in defeat. Lawson is standing in front of her, slightly hunched – leaning over Ginny. There’s a mixture of kindness, amazement and concern on his face.

“It was to me.” Ginny says.

Amelia wonders if Ginny can see the change in Lawson’s face when she says that.  She notices how he stiffens, how his face goes hard and his eyes seem to go cold.

“Do you think he released the pictures?” He asks, unemotionally.

She hears a long husky sigh. “I – I don’t want to think that.” She hears Ginny say. “He’s good guy – I hope.” Amelia is certain she sees irritation on Lawson’s face when Ginny says that.

He throws his head back and lets out a loud protracted sigh. He groans a little and crouches to the ground and then takes up a cross legged position, facing Ginny. He ducks his head to look at her.

“Amelia and I…” He starts to say.

“Are none of my business.” She hears Ginny complete. Amelia can hear the disappointment in Ginny’s voice, knowing fully well that Mike doesn’t know Ginny enough to read into it.

“Fair enough.” He says.  “This world is crazy these days, Baker. There are some players who’ve done nasty things – way worse than taking a couple of sexy pictures with people they genuinely care for.”

She watches Ginny’s shoulder rise and fall as the girl sighs.

Amelia notices how Mike looks away when he speaks. “You shouldn’t be punished for being in love. So what if he’s a ballplayer.”

“We got into brawl with him.”

“So what?” Mike says, emphatically. “Hey!” He says, ducking his head at her, like he wants her to hold her head up.

Amelia notices that Ginny’s head rises. She watches how Mike looks at her. Like, he’s completely enthralled by her.

“So what?” He says, softly, with this calming smile.  

She can’t see the expression on Ginny’s face, but judging by the way Lawon’s eyes are locked on Ginny’s –

Actually, Amelia doesn’t have a fucking clue, what she’s supposed to think. She doesn’t know when she stopped breathing, while voyeuristically eavesdropping on them, she doesn’t realize when she starting hyperventilating softly, either.

“F-Y-I.” Ginny breaks the silence with a change of tone. “There’s been a naked picture of you circulating around since 2014.”

There’s a comical expression on Mike’s face. “Really?” He says, cocking his head, raising his eyebrows with furrows appearing on his brow. “Just the one?”

Amelia recoils back as she hears Ginny burst into a fit of giggles. Where the tension should ebb, and Amelia feels a whole another panic rising. Since when was it that someone else had more control on her client than she did? Since when did Amelia end up in the situation of being sent out of the room while someone _else_ handled Ginny?

How did she miss the phase where Ginny’s grown out of her crush on Lawson?

And. What what _what_ the fuck -  is this – this – this _thing_ \- between Mike Lawson and Ginny Baker?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What do you think?? Huh?


	3. Rachel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This ship has officially fucked me up.  
> The gif that is stuck in my head is at the end. I don't own it. Kudos to whoever put it up.

 

When Amelia Slater texted her for a recommendation on a good interviewer for a potentially volatile story on Ginny Baker, Rachel knew that something awful was about to happen. She cancelled on the planner’s appointment and hopped on the chopper to San Diego that Amelia sent her.

Rachel wants to help. Because she admires Ginny Baker.

What Ginny Baker did on Kimmel was gutsy. It had a much larger impact because Kimmel’s audience was eight times larger and more diverse than her merry band of sports nerds. It impressed Rachel because Ginny actually refused to follow the segment format. It impressed Rachel because she and all America could see that it took Ginny a lot of effort to open up.

But she was more impressed with Ginny Baker, because for some reason her ex-husband was protective of the new rookie in the first week of her joining the _Padres_. It usually took Mike a lot longer to care about anything.

She doesn’t want to spring a surprise on Mike. She decides to rip the bandaid off and meet him first, before they bump into each other, making things unpleasant. The last thing she needs a week before her carefully planned wedding is drama with her ex,  which might become detrimental gossip.

It’s 3:45 pm when she climbs her way up the steps that lead to the private mini-golf course near the stadium offices. She found it peculiar when they told her where he was, given that Mike didn’t particularly like golf – but, she knew, he played with the owners every now and then.

There’s a familiar laughter that greets Rachel’s ears. This straight-up thick manly guffaw that she remembers from a time not long ago. Rachel feels a familiar ache – like an old wound that’s just barely healed. She remembers how easily that laugh would change her mood, transform her day, turn her on, help her unwind. She remembers those treasured moments on the couch, in front of the TV, in bed – with their friends –

– alone.

When she hears the admixed husky feminine laugh, Rachel sighs ironically, thinking she’ll be greeted with the sight of those barely legal floozies fawning all over him. But – and this does occur to her as an afterthought -  Mike doesn’t laugh like that with people he doesn’t know. It doesn’t sound flirtatious or cheesy – it sounds like –

Before she sees Mike, she sees Ginny Baker.

She’s wearing a pink t-shirt and capris. Her wayfarer shades are resting over her curly hair like a hairband. With his back to Rachel, she sees that Mike is wearing that god-awful jacket that she hated (– the sun is sweltering and she has no clue why he’d want to wear that jacket at this time).

Ginny is playfully shoving against his arm, her sneakers scraping sideways against the green grass, as they argue while he elbows her away. They’re side wrestling over something. It’s only when Ginny moves her body aside for the brief moment before she futilely rams her hip into his side, does Rachel see the golf ball sitting comfortably on the divot between Mike’s feet.

 “C’mon! You said you didn’t play golf!” Ginny Baker says, recoiling away, giggling. “Move over!”

“I know how to play golf.” He drawls. “I just don’t play it – like as a thing. It’s for old people.”

“ _You_ are old. And - _that’s_ a technicality.”

“Yeah – that flitty flight of the bumble bee thing you call a fastball is also a technicality.”

“Smooth.” She says, with a tone of mock-offence. “Come up with new jokes old man. It’s my turn.”

 “Scoot Baker! What self-respecting person plays Golf to relax anyway?”

“Dad made me do it.” She says. “Said it would help improve my batting.”

“Hey! I know what’ll help improving your batting!” He turns his head to look at her. “Actually trying to swing at the ball once in a while?”

He’s wearing those Ray Ban aviators Rachel had bought him as a birthday present while they were dating. She reckons he must have forgotten that she’d gifted it to him – there’s no way he’d hold onto keepsakes. Not from her.

Ginny bursts into laughter again, grabs a putter. She masterfully swings it, still laughing hysterically, cutting off Mike’s downswing, her club connecting with the ball – sending it teetering towards a hole.

“Yes!” She roars in victory, sticking her arms up, the putter flying out of her hand.

Rachel smiles despite the twinge of pain she feels within.

“Oh – okay!” He says, condescendingly. He takes off the goggles and puts then into his jacket pocket. Rachel can see the affection on his face when he looks down at Ginny. “I let you get that.”

“No, you didn’t!” Ginny says, sighing loudly and sticking her chin up at Mike with a wide smile.

Rachel thinks Ginny Baker has really big teeth. But then again, Rachel also feels like an intruder.

She feels like storming into the situation and making them uncomfortable. She feels like grabbing Mike and demanding where _this_ guy was, all those years while she was trying to cling on to her love for him; where _this_ guy was, who's clearly okay taking a break from practice to goof around with this girl rookie, but he couldn’t be bothered to take his wife’s calls in the middle of practice, back when they were together.

 _No_ , Rachel tells herself. She shakes her head, to shake the resentment off. They were both different people then, and it was a lifetime ago.

The two of them have stopped laughing – and they’re just _looking_ at each other. They’re just about an arm’s length from each other and Rachel could swear she notices Mike’s infinitesimal step forward – she could swear she can see Ginny’s neck clench from that dry swallow. 

She doesn’t want to hang around and read in too much into what relationship these two have. Their purported partnership on field and friendship off field is always projected positively and untainted by any sexual hints. Rachel wants to continue respecting that, without letting her own envy getting in the way.

“Mike!”

It’s out of her mouth before she can stop it. Thing is -  she actually meant to turn around and _walk away_.

Both their heads snap towards her. Both eyes narrow at her. Ginny’s face shows an awkward confusion; Mike’s face goes steely cold.

Mike looks at Ginny once before he looks back at her and blinks. Like he’s forcing something painful away.

“Rachel.” He says, straightening up and moving away from Ginny. “Wha- what are you doing here?”

“I – uh…” Rachel says, looking between Ginny and him. “I came to – uh-”

She walks forward, unsure of what she’s supposed to say.

“Wait – aren’t you getting married next week?” He says, his voice wavering. Rachel doesn’t meet Ginny’s sharp gaze. She keeps her face fixed on Mike.

“Yeah, I am. I – did you get the card?”

He nods, but like he’s in a trance. “Yeah – it’s beautiful.” He says, hollowly.

“I should go.” Ginny says, keeping her club inside the caddy. She gives Rachel a comforting and apologetic smile, and lightly taps Mike’s shoulder just as she makes to walk away.

“No stay.” Mike stops her. Rachel notices that he’s got his hand on Ginny’s exposed forearm – not a tight grip – just a gentle touch actually. His fingertips just make enough in contact with Ginny’s skin before brushing off. It’s an intimate gesture – though, it doesn’t entirely feel out of place. Rachel notices it but doesn’t dwell on it. Mike’s gaze weighs heavily on her.

“I uh…” Rachel says, her voice thick, her mouth feeling like cotton. “I came – for – Ginny.” She says (it’s technically true). “Amelia – Slater called me.”

Rachel barely notices the flash of justified panic on Ginny’s face. But, as soon as Mike begins to talk, her expression changes rapidly. Like her thoughts have been redirected from herself and towards Mike. 

“Oh.  Good. Good.” Mike says, blinking. He looks like he’s getting restless. Rachel’s notices the way Ginny seems to coast closer Mike. Like she’s offering support, without even as much as touching him.

“Good.” Mike repeats.

There’s this unpleasant pregnant silence. Rachel finds it easier to look at Ginny who’s standing close to Mike with her arms folded. It’s a very unladylike stance – but somehow Ginny Baker manages to make unladylike posture feel dainty.

“So how’s Dave.” Mike says, immediately garnering Rachel’s attention.

“David.” She corrects him and then smiles unwittingly. “He’s good. He’s excited.”

Mike pushes his tongue against his teeth. Rachel knows that’s face he makes when he’s finding the emotions inside unbearable. From the concerned look Ginny throws Mike, she can tell that Ginny’s also figured out what that facial gesture means.

“I’m sorry…Rachel. I know you came all this way.” Ginny says, quickly, clearing her throat. “It’s already late, we actually have to get back to – practice.”

“Yeah.” Mike says, nodding his head furiously– it’s worrisome to Rachel. “Yep!” Suddenly a mask goes up on his face – like it always does when he gathers himself. Rachel is greeted with that maddening fake smirk he puts on when he doesn’t want to deal with something.

He shoves his hands into his jacket pocket and nods. “Me too.” He says. He shakes his head. “I mean – er practice. Me and Baker both. We gotta go.”

He chews on his lower lip and then gestures for Ginny to go. She nods at them both. She also throws a sympathetic expression at Rachel which Rachel does appreciate.

“Amelia handles everything, don’t worry. She will update me on what you two decide. Thanks for helping me out.” Ginny says to her on the way out. Rachel finds it ironic that Ginny’s consoling her when it should be the other way around given the circumstance.

She looks at Mike. She feels overwhelmed. He just looks at her for the longest time, shakes his head at her. Rachel is finally allowed to see the disappointment and heartbreak that still lingers inside him.

“Congratulations.” He says, wanly, before he follows Ginny outside.

 

 

When Mike Lawson walked out on his wife, the whole country believed that it was he who was unfaithful. His flagrant promiscuity in the after, only solidified the theory. He was good-looking, irresistible, charming and a total chick magnet – it seemed logical all the sensuality couldn’t be contained to a life of monogamy.

While their failed marriage had been dissected by the press and the tabloids alike, only a select few humans, would know the extent of his decency. He didn’t divulge the true cause of their split. Even if his continuous sexscapades were meant to be vengeful towards her, he was ultimately the man who stood up – took charge – didn’t pass on blame – even if it meant being labelled a great many nefarious things. Even - if it nearly shattered him.

He was the man who protected her from becoming the most hated woman in America because she cheated on golden boy.

“I’m thinking it’s best we take charge of this.” Amelia Slater tells her, after she explains the situation with Ginny Baker and the sexy photos. “I’ve stalled them till 9:00 pm. That gives me some more control. My legal eagles can try a cease and desist, there’s also extortion and defamation, but anything we do after those pictures are out, will just be like bandaids on bullet holes. It’s better we talk about them first.”

“What about Trevor Davis? Wouldn’t it be better if _both_ of them are portrayed as victims of privacy violations rather than just Ginny?” Rachel asks, knowing that Amelia probably already has an answer.

Amelia shrugs. “His people are refusing to get involved.”

Rachel’s eyes are on a photograph on one of Amelia’s strategy boards. It’s a picture of her ex-husband with the rookie pitcher from the dugout.

Mike is standing with his legs braced part, cap on his head, and his beefy arms folded – his body language implying a relaxed mood. Ginny Baker is standing by his side, also with her cap on, her hip cocked, to the side as the gloved hand resting on her waist. She’s staring off at something that isn’t even in the shot. Her other elbow is resting on Mike’s shoulder, ball in the same hand, with the index finger outstretched towards the direction she’s peering at – like she’s pointing to something. There’s a considerable distance between their bodies, except for that elbow. She’s not even looking at Mike. Her head is just slightly tilted in his direction and she has a smug smile on her face.

It’s a casual picture – and it seems like the photographer just snuck up on them. There’s absolutely nothing sexual about the photo – in fact, Tommy Miller who had once been rumoured to be Ginny’s biggest detractor is standing on the other side of Ginny, with a good natured smile. She’s closer to Miller in terms of body distance than Mike. _And_ Miller’s hand is clearly clasping her shoulder.

But Mike -

Mike’s face is directed towards her – he’s grinning wide, like he’s been laughing at what she said. His eyes are like slits and the corners all crinkly. Rachel can mentally shave off that beard and reveal the youthful charming face she once knew.

Rachel doesn’t know what’s so tempting about that photo that she can’t stop staring at it.

“We think,” She hears Amelia say “if she interviews with you – it’ll garner her more support. I’m not forcing this on you, Rachel – but I’d owe you one.”

Her eyes shift to the photograph again. She sighs and looks at Amelia. “Count me in.” She says. “But – you should rope in her team as well. Their support will send a positive message.”

“What?” Amelia says. “You really think we should tell her team about those photos. She’s not quite settled in entirely yet.”

“At least, bring Mike on board.” Rachel says, standing up, picking up her phone to make the requisite calls.  

“I don’t know if he’ll show up for this.” Amelia says, looking towards the same picture Rachel has been staring at.

Rachel glances at the look captured of her ex-husband’s face. She remembers the man she loved, the man she married and the man she divorced. She remembers the man who refused to let her indiscretion be made public no matter what his lawyers and friends told him. She thinks of the man she saw earlier, laughing carefree, smiling down fondly at Ginny Baker.

“He’ll show up.” Rachel says, quietly, ignoring Amelia’s quizzical looks.

 

 

 

It’s 7:30 pm, when she’s walking down with Rachel Patrick to the clubhouse, aware that she’s probably going to have to elbow her way in.  Rachel seems hesitant about coming – but doesn’t express it overtly.

Amelia barely recalls the shouting match she has with the chubby andropausal assistant manager they call Buck. She barely notices the surprised curses and shocked faces of the Padres players in their various states of undress as she barges in. She ignores the cat calls and suggestive winks from the more cockier players.

She whips her head about, her blond hair tossing around furiously.

She whirls around looking for Sanders, and instead, she’s greeted with the sight of Lawson, glaring at her, draped in a towel, his beefy arms folded, chewing gum angrily. 

She always gets the impression of seeing a warrior when she sees him like that. His dark beard a stark contrast to that pale freckled skin. Surrounded by his teammates, who are slowly circling around behind him about as though she’s some spy that dared entered their sanctuary of male privilege. She wonders how Ginny must have felt those first couple of days in this room.

She notices how his eyes shift beyond her – to Rachel.

Oh. Right.

_Dammit._

Their history.

Amelia sighs and purses her lips whether to yell at him or cajole him now that she’s created a scene with what’shiname? Garland? and decides against it.

“Lawson, I _have_ to talk to you.” Is all she says.

He continues to glower – more at Rachel than at him.

Amelia can feel the heat of it in that brief moment – she doesn’t know whether it is because of all the love lost or because of Rachel’s upcoming marriage.

“Please.” Amelia says, allowing her desperation to show. “It’s for Ginny.”

Amelia notices the way his scowl changes to something else. How his furious expression softens and his jaw movements slow down. It looks like worry, but it’s barely there before it’s gone.

He didn’t say a word. He merely made a gesture at her telling them to get the hell out. When she starts to protest he intensifies that fierce look in his eyes silencing her.

Captain Cool – someone had called Lawson once. He seldom lost his shit.

She hears a muffled chuckle from Rachel. Amelia looks at the redhead and realizes she’s amused.

There’s a sudden shift in the mood when they hear Luongo come in. “I swear to ya, if Miss Legally Blonde is down here another minute more, I’m gonna have another PR disaster on my head. On purpose!”

Amelia throws Luongo a bitchy glare which she’s surprised (but not unpleasantly) that it’s returned. At least the old man has gumption.

Luongo’s angry scowl fades when he sees Rachel.

“What’s going on? Where’s Baker?” Luongo growls. “Why’re these ladies here?”

“She’s with Miller.” Lawson says. “They’re up at the bullpen. Don’t worry Al – I’ll take ‘em.”  

Amelia’s lingers on that unreadable expression on Lawson’s face. She ponders over that look while they stand outside, waiting for him to get dressed. She knows she’s not the object of his anger – but something else is lingering there. She can’t put her finger on what exactly it is. She looks at Rachel who’s standing beside her, seeming unnaturally quiet. She wonders if it is Rachel.

She thinks of Ginny, practicing with Miller. Amelia wonders if it is that.

 

 

Mike listens, quietly. Amelia is aware that he’s glaring at Rachel unabashedly while Amelia presents their idea, staring into her face like he’s burning a hole through it. 

“So?” Amelia says, huffing. “Are you on board?”

“Did Baker agree to this?”

“What – I – I haven’t told her yet.”

Mike looks at her incredulously for a second before he smirks – sarcastically. “You’re real piece of work Amelia, y’know that? You just saunter into the clubhouse – make a scene – and Baker doesn’t know that _this_ is the idea you’re going with?”

“Mike, I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to storm in to your precious clubhouse” Amelia hisses. “But you of all people should know – how awful this is.”

Amelia looks at Rachel who’s taken to watching them with narrowed eyes.

“You should tell Al.” Mike says, shaking his head. “He’s dealt with situations like this before.”

“I’m not going to tell _Al_!” Amelia snorts, sarcastically. “He’s a misogynist.”

“No, he’s not. He looks out for his players – it’s what he does. He’s pulled some of us out from shit that you wouldn’t believe.”

“She’s the first female player in major league baseball!” Amelia says, hounding him. “Everything that happens with her is critical!”

Mike throws her a cold look and leans back against the wall. “She’s not the only player in my clubhouse.” He says. “Everyone’s got some shit going down or the other. I don’t see any of their agents or publicists gatecrashing practice.”

“She’s not just _any_ player, Mike.”

“You’re right.” He says. “But if you keep this up – she’s going to turn into the one thing she started out as.”

“Oh year?” Amelia says, “What’s that?”

“A PR gimmick.”

Amelia feels indignation rise like a roused predator. She looks back at Rachel who just shrugs and rolls her eyes. Lawson nods his head at Amelia, throws a dirty glance back at Rachel, pushes his back off the wall and starts to walk.

Amelia huffs and rushes to stay in line with him. “I didn’t expect that from you!” She hisses. “That’s sexist and cruel….”

“That _was_ how we _saw_ her. Past tense.” Lawson says, assertively, cutting her off.  “And now she’s earned her spot here.”

“That’s the point! She shouldn’t have to _earn_ her way into anything.” Amelia says. “If she was a guy…”

“Wake up Amelia!” He says, a little loud. “That is how the world works. It sucks but that’s how it is. And this world is what Baker lives in. It’s what she probably wants.”

“No, she wants to be a star.” Amelia says, shaking her head.

“Is that right? Did she tell you that?”

“She just doesn’t know it.” Amelia shrugs.

She hears his scoffing laugh.

“What?” Amelia says. “Mike, I know you think you know Ginny but what you don’t see is the bigger picture. She’s so much more than baseball. She’s…”

“A brand, yeah, you’ve told me like a thousand times.” He says, sarcastically. “Look, I get the importance star value – Amelia, I’ve been doing this for a long time – but you can’t just-   _force_ celebrity on her.”

Amelia is about to say something when they hear Ginny from a distance. “Yo! Lawson!”

They all turn to the sight of her and (when did _that_ happen, right?) Miller walking – nope – swaggering in tandem towards them. Ginny’s got a wide smile on her face, like she’s forgotten everything that’s happening. Amelia feels sad when that smile fades as soon as Ginny’s eyes spot her and Rachel.

Those stress signs are all back at once. She looks down, she moistens her lips and she hunches her shoulders, slows her steps as she heads towards them.

Lawson draws his hand in Amelia’s direction, gesturing for her to stay. He nods at her and Rachel before walking up ahead at a faster pace to meet both pitchers. Amelia agrees unhappily, but doesn’t make a sound. He shoots a look at Miller who seems to get the message and scoots away – just after he bumps his fist with Ginny's (like seriously, when _did_ that happen?).

Amelia watches Ginny’s forward steps slow down to a halt as Lawson goes up to talk to her. She watches the haggard, defeated expression on Ginny’s face. Lawson’s cold expressions change to kindness, like he’s trying to convince her. Amelia watches the nods, the head shakes – the eventual flailing of hands.

Amelia’s been transported to that time-space portal again, where only Ginny and Mike exist and she and Rachel are just meaningless flies on the wall.

They can hear brief snippets of the conversation travel down to them whenever voices rise. “No!” Ginny says, fiercely at some point. “She cannot drag you into this!”

“I want to stick my big fat foot in!” They hear him reply. “Does that make you feel better?”

“Old man!” They hear Ginny retaliate. “That’s your ex-wife out there who dumped you for another guy and she’s marrying him next week! You sure you wanna be stuck in the same room with her while she interviews me?”

Amelia gasps. She looks at Rachel horrified – Rachel, who looks perceivably staggered. Amelia doesn’t know why but she feels like she’s a hapless witness in a room with the mistress and the wife – only she’s not sure who is who. Rachel is technically an _ex_ -wife and Ginny –

-  what _is_ Ginny?  

The look on Mike Lawson’s face gives Amelia the impression he’s going to grab Ginny’s slender neck and snap it with his massive palms. Ginny straightens up to her full height, squaring her shoulders and jutting out her chin.

“You are not getting dragged into my mess!” They hear her say, loud and clear.

Mike gives her a really threatening look and takes a step forward. Amelia almost takes a defensive step forward to intervene.

“What is your problem if I’m there to show support anyway? I’d do it for the other guys!” He growls.

There’s just a sliver space between them. Amelia wonders if they’re even aware how close they are.

“You wouldn’t be doing this if it was any of the others!” Her voice rises to dangerous decibels.

“Wouldn’t you do this, if it were for me?” He turns it back on her.

“Would you have _asked_ me to?” She steps forward, craning her neck up at Mike.

Ginny’s almost touching Mike – that’s how close she is.

Amelia holds her breath, knowing fully well that Mike has realized the proximity. From his profile she can see how disconcerted he looks. How he swallows thickly. Amelia feels her chest tighten with nervousness and apprehension when she catches it. That one glance – that one fucking glance – that has Mike’s eyes shifting towards Ginny’s mouth – so quick, it would have been missed if Amelia wasn’t all microscopic focus on their faces, but so powerful – there’s no way anyone standing in their vicinity wouldn’t sense the tension.

 _Rachel is here._ Her brain screams at her and Mike. _The ex-wife is here and she’s watching this._

Amelia sighs in relief when Mike steps back and growls in frustration. “Gaah!” He roars. He throws his hands up in the air. “Would you stop with the gender discrimination bullshit already? You’re exhausting!”

“Yeah! Well! You’re no picnic either!” Ginny snaps back and turns on her heel, walking in the direction of Amelia and Rachel.

“You’re waiving me off, again, Rookie!” He calls out loudly, after her.

Ginny keeps walking forward and raises her middle finger without looking back at him, flipping him off.

Amelia steps forward, as she opens her arms out to Ginny in a metaphorical manner to show that  she's there. Ginny just ignores her and stalks past.

They watch Mike groan loudly and drop his head into his hand.

Amelia is just speechless.  She looks at Rachel and tries to smile – hoping to god that the woman didn’t pick up on this strong current between Mike and Ginny.  Rachel looks dejected – though as her mind is on something else.

“He told her.” Rachel whispers.

Amelia’s about to turn and ask Rachel what she means, but she’s distracted by Mike stomping his way back to them. He nods at Rachel, like he doesn’t even care that she’s around anymore.

“See! I told ya!” He barks at Amelia. “You just make these decisions for her – and you don’t even know if it’s what she wants.”

“I care about her.” Amelia says, tossing her head, as he makes to walk past her.

“I know.” He says, wheeling around. He folds his arms and looks at her pointedly. “Which is why this is so strange.”

“What is?”

He starts walking in the direction Ginny went. “ _You_ want her to be a star.” Lawson hisses, throwing a look back at her. “ _She_ just wants to play ball.”

Amelia lets out a frustrated moan and rubs her face. She sighs out loud and turns to Rachel with a plastered smile. “That was fun, huh?” She says, sarcastically.

Rachel doesn’t look as upset any more as she was. She’s eyeing Lawson’s retreating back and then turns to Amelia. 

“So,” Rachel Patrick, ex-wife of Mike Lawson says. “How long have _you_ two been sleeping together?”

When Amelia purses her lips and bites back an acerbic comment, Rachel steps around her to leave. But she looks at Amelia, and Amelia sees that Rachel’s eyes are filled with bitter tears.

“Oh and good luck with that by the way –!“ Rachel says, her voice filled with harshness. “ _Just_ in case, you haven’t noticed, _he_ is in love with her.”

 

 **A/N**    Completely utterly messed up. This gif did it for me --->

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would I seem desperate if I begged for a review?


	4. Too close too far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ch 4 became too long so I split it.

It can’t be love.

Rachel can’t possibly know that – can she?

But then again – she _was_ married to Mike.

Of the three women who are currently circling his orbit, if Ginny Baker knows Mike, the baseball player, and Amelia Slater knows Mike, the mutually-exclusive fuckbuddy but not-quite-boyfriend, then – Rachel Patrick is the one who to most likely to know Mike, the man.

Given Amelia’s depth of perception about people, she finds it surprising that she had prejudicially pegged their marriage as one of convenience - like most celebrity marriages turn out to be. It surprises her – and she doesn’t know why - that there might have been a great love lost – and that Mike was the party who left with a broken heart.

(She can’t be blamed - Rachel doesn’t even seem the type to be unfaithful and yet, Mike doesn’t seem to fit into the commitment profile, either. She didn’t even expect him to call her the next day after they hooked up – but there she was, proven wrong.)

Amelia wonders how it is that when she’s the one who gets the maximum share of Lawson’s naked-body these days, _she_ ’s the one that misses the exposed, vulnerable man inside. How is it? That – if he unreservedly sheds his clothes in front of her, shared a physical relationship with her – (the fucker even showers with her because he can’t bend to scrub the back of his thighs) – how is it that -  that it’s Ginny Baker - who gets to see his wounds?

It can’t be love.

Rachel can’t be right.

 

 

They’ve set up a command centre in her hotel suite: hers and Rachel’s teams on one end, planning out the interview and her lawyers on the other end fighting it out over a conference call with WB’s legal team.

(Rachel’s sense of professionalism astounds Amelia. The tranquil, unruffled, composed way in which Rachel behaves would never betray the venomous outburst Amelia had witnessed just a couple of hours back at the stadium.)

It’s 8.55 pm. The TV’s on mute – Eliot’s sitting with his eyes glued as TMZ is announced as the next upcoming show after the commercial.

“We’ve got it!” Someone yells – one of the legal aids or junior associates of the lawyer they’d appointed. “We’ve got a stay!  24 hours! The judge’s gonna figure if they’re in violation of privacy laws. God bless California!”

Amelia exhales out, leaning back into her chair, feeling the world swim around her. She realizes she’s barely eaten since morning – and the adrenaline rush had just sacked out of system.

“What about the interview?” Rachel says, smiling – she looks tired too.

“It’s still on.” Amelia says, decisively. If Rachel flew down all the way, Amelia at least owes her an exclusive one on one with Ginny. “She’ll still do it, Rachel.”

“Okay.” Rachel says. “I guess, we’ve had a long day, haven’t we? We can all get a little rest, now?”

Amelia nods, picking herself up out of the sofa, thinking about ordering room service.

“Maybe…” Rachel adds. “Those of us who can – should at least – go home. See our significant others – and bedfellows?”

The veiled taunt doesn’t escape Amelia. She turns around and narrows her eyes. Rachel Patrick gives her a triumphant lopsided smile in return – that doesn’t reach her eyes.

 

 

It can’t be love. Amelia tells herself as she drives to Lawson’s home.

Maybe it’s a validation of his narcissism – she surmises.

(Ginny worshipped the guy. Men, in particular love to have their self-worth fanned out of proportion by the adoration in the eyes of groupies.

Amelia can live with that because  -  eventually, Ginny will get disillusioned and any residual feelings of fixation will eventually die down.

Like an old memory.)

But then – this is also the man who goes on live television and he calls her a ‘ _woman’_.

(The way he said ‘woman’ – stuttering on the first syllable. Like in that second after he said the word ‘girl’ it hit him that Ginny’s not a child – that she’s a force to be reckoned with.

_"Lemme tell you something. This girl – this w-woman. She’s a gamer. She’s a total gamer. Doesn’t matter what you throw at her, she gets right back up.”_

Amelia’s keen ears couldn’t miss that. A _woman_. He had said.

Powerful, beautiful, passionate, formidable, loyal, resilient, strong. A woman.)

Those aren’t the words of a man who wants his ego cossetted.

 

So, maybe a crush, then.  Amelia will even permit the idea of an infatuation, at best.  In fact, Amelia’s so okay with it – that she’ll even go to the point of taking credit for it.

(Because - it’s Amelia’s job to make the whole world obsess about Ginny Baker. Ginny was the glowing ember that Amelia fanned into a wildfire. She spent the better part of two years coaching that girl, amplifying her attractiveness so that _everyone_ falls in love with her.

\- and Mike’s part of the world, right? 

No matter how cool he plays it, no one’s immune from the sweeping storm that is the Ginny Baker experience.)

She even brand-patented the word _Ginnsanity_ for fuck’s sake.

 

(But – here’s the thing – and Amelia learned this on the day Ginny started with the _Padres_ …

 _Ginnsanity_ stops right outside the door of that clubhouse. Beyond those doors – where Amelia can’t reach in and manipulate – Ginny’s on her own. It’s not her smile or pleasant personality or her lovely face – it’s her determination, it’s her dedication, it’s her loyalty.

Sport and spirit – in its untainted, unalloyed, virginal form. Sport and spirit - the fundamentals that make this small town athlete with a high-school education into Ginny Baker. Sport and spirit - Pure and simple.

 _That_ is something Amelia can’t stake claim on.)

 _That_  - she realizes - is irresistible for a person like Mike.

 

 

 

His house is like a glass cage, for all the world to look into – Amelia thinks – and yet no one really knows that much about him, do they?

She slides the door open and frowns, calling out to him softly. There’s a great aroma of roast chicken wafting in that makes her smile. She can see the TV light flickering – but the TV’s on mute. She can see his leg hanging up off the edge of the backrest, wagging up and down – she imagines he’s sprawled on the couch.

She pads in, the click of her pumps drowned out by the sound of…. music.

 _Blues_. The thoughts click in to place in her mind _. B.B. King._

She never knew that about him. Months and months of fucking and she doesn’t know what music he likes.

That booming, throaty guffaw interrupts her musings.

“Hang on.” She hears him say. “Lemme put you on speaker. Na- na – you gotta listen to this, Rookie. I’ll make a believer out of you, yet.”

Amelia is rooted to her spot when a stereophonic sound of a woman’s giggle fills the room.

“ _No_!” She hears Ginny plead. “ _No, No wait! I don’t wanna hear it, no – oh okay! Guess you’ve already…”_

There’s an easy silence that follows when she stops speaking, that’s filled with the amped up volume of hypnotic smooth melodical phrases from King’s guitar.

(It gives Amelia the impression that she’s infringing into someone’s foreplay. More specifically it feels like she’s intruding on Ginny and Mike’s foreplay.

Amelia feels like a creep – and she doesn’t even understand why.)

 

A couple of riffs and licks later, Amelia hears an audible exhale from the other side and then Ginny speaks up. _“Yeah – okay – Old Man – maybe and I mean,_ maybe _it is better – but c’mon! John Meyer’s way hotter.”_

“John Meyer’s way hotter she says.” Amelia hears Mike repeat in a monotonous retort. He chortles. “Hold the phone, Baker! I gotta go check on the chicken.”

(Amelia has absolutely no idea why – but she hastily ducks to the corner, behind a pillar when she hears Mike’s loud grunt as he gets off the couch.)

 _“Wow, you’re a real domestic, huh?”_ She hears Ginny’s voice, teasing him. “ _Checkin’ on the chicken and everything. Who’d’ve thought?”_

When Mike comes into her view she sees that he’s dressed in an old t-shirt and shorts, and his knee’s bound by a compression bandage. She also sees – that - he’s got a shy, surreptitious smile on his face.

(It’s - it’s completely unbecoming.

Amelia’s only accustomed to this super self-confident, unfazed, nonchalant guy – not someone who’s ears go pink when he’s made to blush by a twenty-three-year old teasing him on the phone.)

He places the phone on the counter and ducks down, out of view.

 _“How’s it look?”_ She hears Ginny’s voice, cutting through the music.

“Good!” He says, groaning as he straightens up. “Want some?”

_“Don’t tempt me, Old Man. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in forever. I’ll come down and fight you for it.”_

“So why don’t ya?”

_“Huh?”_

“Seriously, come over!”

“ _Um..Duhh!”_ She drawls.

“What?” He frowns in the direction of the phone.

_“Er – I don’t think your girlfriend’s gonna like me butting in on your romantic dinner.”_

“Huh? What the fuck are you talking about? What dinner?”

Amelia feels her mouth open a little. She feels a breath of air trapped in her chest.

_“Amelia?”_

(Amelia doesn’t miss the irritation in Ginny’s tone when she says her name. She also doesn’t miss the unaffected shoulder shrug that Mike does, either.)

 _“Is she not –? I mean…”_ Ginny sounds hesitant. “ _She called me to say they’ve got a stay on TMZ releasing the photos – she told me she’d see me tomorrow – I assumed she’s coming over. I mean – when you said bought that chicken – I kinda figured you were cooking for two.”_

Mike snorts. “Okay. Yeah – first off, that chicken’s for me.”

_“For fuck’s sake Lawson! No human eats that much alone.”_

 “ _You_ do!” Mike says, donning oven mitts (which at an earlier time, Amelia used to find sexy – but now she just finds it as repulsive). “I’ve seen you _eat_ , Baker!”

_“Yeah, well I work out. Y’know work hard…”_

“Yeah, yeah - eat hard, I know.” He completes, his voice gruff and strained like he’s engaged in physical activity.

The aroma intensifies and she sees him rise up, turning around with a beautiful roast chicken in hand.

“Me too!” He says, sounding a little winded.

_“Okay, so a lot of your weight gain makes sense to me, now.”_

“It’s not that big.” He makes a cute, self-justifying look, pouting at the roasted chook in the oven tray. He scrunches up his face and looks at the phone. “I mean, what would you know?”

_“I was there when you picked that bird out of the cold section, remember?”_

(They went to the supermarket – together?)

“Oh really? Is that where you were?” He sounds cynical. He sticks a fork into the flesh. “I thought you were busy signing autographs for that dude at the checkout counter.”

 _“It’s your fault!”_ She sounds defensive. _“You were totally right about that by the way.”_ Her tone turns sarcastic. _“_ No one _at the supermarket cared about me._ No one _knew I was there.”_ Amelia hears an added giggle after that.

“At least this chicken doesn’t judge me. This chicken gets me!” Mike says in a mocking, high pitched voice. He places his mitt covered hands at the edge of the counter and looking at the phone with a teasing expression – as though he’s actually looking at Ginny Baker – as though she were sitting there, in place of that phone.

Ginny’s giggle breaks into an outright cackle. Amelia watches in amazement as Mike’s face transforms into this childlike look of hilarity when he joins with her.

 _“Yeah…!”_ She hears Ginny’s hoots dissipate, when she speaks. “ _Yeah! And I’m sure the two of you are gonna be real happy together. What with your BFF resting in pieces in that big belly o’yours, an’ all!”_

“BFF – I like that.” Mike’s face becomes pensive. “Bird friend forever.”

Ginny bursts into hacking laughter. _“Ohmigod! You are so lame!”_

“Hmm. Never said I wasn’t.” Mike shrugs, his face smiling and that shy smile appearing again as he takes off the mitts.

Amelia watches him grab the knife. He slices a piece of the chicken and stuffs it into his mouth.

 _“Na – but seriously though?”_ Ginny says, once her laughter subsides. _“Amelia’s not coming?”_

“Nope. I texted her.” Mike says, his eyebrows widen and his forehead furrows in approval as he chomps. Like he’s happy with the taste. “I’m really not feelin’ like company, tonight.” He adds.

Amelia’s mouth drops. She slips her palm into her bag and reaches for her phone. She’s been so busy, she never sorted through her texts. She finds the message and sure enough it’s there. ( _Not up for company tonight. Long day. Raincheck?_ )

 _“Why not?”_ She hears Ginny say, almost echoing Amelia’s thoughts.

“I dunno.” He shrugs.

_“Was it because of your wife?”_

“Ex-wife and I dunno – maybe.” He says.

“How are you doing with that, Old Man?”

He’s reaches for his phone and taps something. The volume of the music drops to a softer tone – like a background score. He places the phone back in its original place. He pushes the plates aside, like he’s decided to eat directly from the oven tray.

“All good.” He says.

“Okay.” Ginny sounds like she doesn’t believe him.

“Hey! You should really taste this, Baker.” He says, nodding at his food approvingly. “Seriously. Should I call you an _Uber_?”

_“I thought you weren’t up for company.”_

Amelia notices how Mike’s face goes blank. As though, it’s just hit him how paradoxical his words are. As though, the thought occurs to him that Ginny’s not _mere_ company but….more.

( _Fuck Fuck Fuck!_ Is all Amelia can think. Panic rises in her – she doesn’t know if it’s Mike’s house because she was just here this morning feeling the exact same thing that she’s feeling now...

...discombobulated.)

 _“Nah – I’m good. Save some for me?”_ Ginny says, when he doesn’t answer.

She sees Mike sigh out loud and drag a stool and sit on it. She sees him grab the oven tray, wincing when the hot edges singe his fingers. He chews pensively on his food.

_“You still there?”_

“Yeah I’m here.” He swallows and reaches under the counter.

 

There’s this unbearable silence that follows. Thing is – it’s unbearable for Amelia. Her lower body goes numb. She grabs on the pillar and straight her back against the wall for support.

(It’s unbearable for her, but not unbearable for them. It’s like – this comfortable silence across the phone is the most natural thing for them.)

 

“She’s getting married again, next week. To the guy.” He says, after a fishing out a bottle of beer. “How do you think I’m doing?”

There’s a loud sigh at the other end.

 _“Well. You’re moving on, too.”_ Ginny says. _“Amelia’s…she’s great!”_

She sounds like she means it – but it doesn’t give Amelia any respite to the growing dread in the pit of her stomach.

“Look – Baker – Amelia and I…”

_“Are none of my business. I told you, I’m…”_

“Baker.”

_“What do you want from me, Old Man? You want me to yell? You want me to slam a door in someone’s face?”_

“For starters. You can’t keep this stuff bottled up, Baker.”

_“I’m fine.”_

“Okay – then how about this? You can hide your emotions from your agent – you can’t hide it from me.”

 

(A paralysing mix of horror and anxiety overcome Amelia’s higher cerebral function. There is something so inherently wrong about what he says – even if it feels right –

Amelia thinks it’s all wrong. Mike’s got it all wrong. It should be the other way around.)

 

“ _Okay. Fine_.” Ginny sounds irritated. She’s biting her words out. “ _It kinda freaks me out that I’m somebody’s pillow talk. I mean the whole word feels entitled to ‘discuss’ me, anyway – I thought at least...I mean…”_  Her sigh is loud and sad, and it hits Amelia in her stomach.

He looks unhappy.  “We don’t discuss you.” He says, looking at the phone.

_“And I’m expected to take you at your word? When you’ve been lying to me all these months? I consider you both my friends. And – to think that you’re comparing notes behind my back…it’s just…”_

Now he looks veritably hurt. “We weren’t…!” He starts to say, looking at the phone, apologetically. “I wanted to tell you…”

 _“Amelia no doubt would have decided otherwise.”_ Ginny cuts in. “ _She treats me like I’m thirteen.”_

Amelia feels her lower lip quiver.

“I’m sure she was just looking out for you.” He says – taking a swig of his beer.

 _“Yeah, because that’s exactly what this feels like.”_ Ginny sounds sarcastic. _“I don’t feel shepherded at all.”_

“C’mon. Don’t be like that.” He says, starting to eat again, picking at the sides of the chicken.

_“Look, I don’t own your time or your personal life, Lawson. I don’t own hers - neither. I know it’s none of my business but – I mean – I don’t even know why it pisses me off…it’s just...”_

“Fair enough.”

 _“It just makes me feel stupid… Like – I mean, I’m always_ ‘oh! you should talk to Amelia about this and that…! _’ And…!”_

“Fair enough!” He interjects, loudly.

 _“…all I’m saying is you could just – I dunno maybe tell me -_ ‘Sure, Baker. I’ll talk to her right after dinner or our date…’ _or whatever it is you guys do on your own time.”_

“Baker!” His voice is stern – cutting her off. “You’re right, okay? It was wrong of us not to tell you. I’d feel the same, if you were fuckin’ my agent on the side.”

Amelia hears Ginny’s sharp gasp.

“Actually, if you were fucking my agent.” Mike’s voice turns into an impish tone. “I’d be pittyin’ you. That guy is ugly as…”

 _“Lawson.”_ She butts in.

“Right! Look, I’m sorry. And yes – it’s none of your business, but as your friend, and your teammate I owed you a heads up.” Mike says, sounding irritable. “I’m sorry, alright?”

 _“Yeah. Okay.”_ She sounds mopey _. “Can we not talk about this anymore? It feels Kevin’ and my mom all over again.”_

Amelia watches Mike breaking into a knowing, affectionate smile and shake his head. “How long _have_ you known?” He asks.

_“Two months now. I saw you two – together”_

“Oh.”

_“She owed it to me, more.”_

“C’mon, Baker.” Mike’s tone of voice is mollifying.

_“Sorry! I don’t mean to be dissin’ yo’ girlfriend.”_

“Okay, so while we’re on the topic. The second thing - ” He gulps another swig of beer, grimacing. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

And suddenly the raging alarm in Amelia’s body quiets down. A terrible buzzing starts in her ear.

 _“She’s not?”_ She hears Ginny’s perplexed voice slice through the droning.

“No!” The conviction with which Mike says it, sends a cold biting chill down Amelia’s spine.

 _“Wow. Okay_. _Then – what are you?”_

“I dunno. I care about her, though.” He says, he looks like he’s thinking over the words. “I like her, well enough…”

Amelia steels her face and steps out of the shadows. Mike does a double take when he sees her and trails off. She glares at him, clenching her teeth. He returns a deadpan expression.

 _“Old Man? You there?”_ Ginny’s voice resounds through.

He doesn’t even look contrite.

“Yeah I’m here.” He reaches for the phone and taps it, and pulls it to his ear.

“What are we, Mike?” Amelia says. Her voice is soft and choked up when she speaks. She knows that if Ginny can hear her, she won’t be able to hear her words.

His eyes are fixed on hers as he speaks into the phone. “We’re not definable…yet.”

He looks like he’s seething. _That’s rich!_ She thinks. He makes her feel like she’s an intruder. How can _he_ be annoyed at her?

“I’m gonna have to call you tomorrow, Baker.” He speaks into the phone and hangs up.

Amelia clears her throat and repeats. “What are we?”

“Amelia.”

Tears well up in her eyes.

“I cannot believe this.” She says. “I’m _such_ an idiot.”

He straightens up, keeps the fork down and reaches for a napkin.

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.” She says her voice shaking. She blinks back the tears.

“Look, Amelia –“He says, rising up. “We’re exclusive but – I think we were both clear that we didn’t want it to be more than what is was. I meant what I said to Ginny  – I care about you.”

She closes her eyes, inhales a deep breath. The aroma of the chicken hits her with the soothing cold air going down her windpipe. She exhales out, her breath shaky.

“I’ll tell you what we are, Mike.” She says, trying not to sound unsteady when she speaks. “We’re over.”

When she turns around and walks away, refusing to acknowledge him calling out to her.

 

 

Amelia’s not quite the point where she can think that she’s in love with Mike. But she knows she feels strongly enough for this to hurt.

That’s not what has her bothered.

She’s known about their nightly chats. She’s always ignored it because – he never speaks to Ginny when they’re together, or he hangs up soon after she enters the room. She’s always assumed they talked about baseball stuff.

Yes, so maybe she’s overheard that free, warm laughter of his more than once – but she always put it down to his usual good-humoured way of doing things.

That’s not what has her bothered.

Amelia sits down on the bed of her hotel room and stares at the picture. The one that Rachel was staring at that afternoon – the one where Ginny has her elbow resting on Mike’s shoulder while he grins at her.

She falls back on the bed and thinks of her ex – she thinks of the baby she never had – she thinks of the promise she made to Will Baker – to protect Ginny’s loyal heart –

She’ll recover from the stabbing sense of heartache she feels when she thinks of Mike, she knows. She’ll allow herself to sulk for a couple of days and get over it. Like she faces everything in life – she’ll face this with a steely resolve and regain control.

That’s not what has her bothered.

Amelia lets the tears flow as she stares up at the art-deco ceiling over her bed.

She only has herself to blame, in this mess. She should never have gotten involved with Mike Lawson.

That not what has her bothered.

Tears slip down the side of Amelia's face as she closes her eyes, her mind replaying that warm, carefree laugh that he shares with Ginny. She replays the way he smiles when he thinks of Ginny or talks to Ginny. He never laughed like that with Amelia. His smiles were only guarded and held back for Amelia.

But - that's not what has her bothered, either.

Because of her lack of vigilance, Ginny’s already in too deep with Lawson. That she’s lost her girl for good. She’ll never hold the same power over Ginny that he does. And, if he chooses to misuse it – (and he just might, because he’s a man, and Amelia’s never placed much faith in men) – Ginny’ll be torn apart in ways that she can’t even begin to fathom.

There would be no way to fix it.

 _That._ Is what has her bothered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want more y'all r gonna have to tell me so.


	5. Chaos Theory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I don't know how I made it these two weeks. Major bawson withdrawal.  
> apologies for typos or errors.

Amelia sifts through whatever video footage of Mike and Ginny she can find, trying to gauge as much as she objectively could.

It is so cliché, that you miss something that’s right in front of you the whole time, but when you know what you’re looking for you start seeing it everywhere.

On the field - there’s a strong mentor-protégé element to them. Something that’s sellable in a way. There’s an uncanny chemistry they share – she sees it in their nods and stolen looks and chuckles in the post-game presses. An impalpable but perceptible connection between them that’s magically captured by cameras as well – even on out on the field.  The reverence in Ginny’s facial expressions, when Mike guides her. The concentration in Mike’s face whenever he’s talking to her. 

Mike doesn’t pat Ginny’s backside so much as he used to. He preferentially bumps his forearm into her. Amelia’s seen that gesture in those period flicks set in ancient times, among the characters that are warriors or soldiers – and she knows it implies a bond deeper than just camaraderie. There’s a very focussed look in his eyes and pointed nod at Ginny when he bumps his wrists against hers. Like he’s determinedly showing her the reins – secrets he wouldn’t share with anyone else.   Amelia also notices that Ginny is progressively tending towards mimicking his body movements.

Off the field – in public events - there’s something inscrutable that she picks up. They tend to drift towards each other in crowds.

 _Why_?

It’s rational, to think that Ginny to gravitates towards the closest energy source that gives her some semblance of stability.

Mike – is superfluously calm and cheerful even if there’s a mob coming at him. As though he was born into and for stardom. He’s shamelessly unbashful about his virtues, and doesn’t skulk behind fake modesty. He projects a daringly over-confident Narcissist – even though in reality - he’s not. He’s got the persona for politics – Amelia thinks – the way he handles himself around other people with a subliminal grace that has everyone around him impressed.

Ginny – on the other hand - may exude confidence and charisma, but – and Amelia knows this first hand – she inwardly hates being surrounded by people, she doesn’t know. She’s young – she’s appealing - but she was never the type who used her looks to her advantage. In the earlier days of their public events, Ginny had a habit of slipping away and curling into herself just to breathe. Amelia had to put in a lot of effort to break Ginny out of her inhibitions to get her to see the larger picture. In Amelia’s experience, it’s not uncommon for celebrities to feel uncomfortable or claustrophobic; some of them don’t take to the pressure of being wanted all the time, and even if Amelia teaches them for years how to cope with it – sometimes it never sticks.

Amelia observes the pictures and videos - how Ginny’s shoulders relax around his presence; how her smile is brighter.

_But what about Mike?_

He always looks relaxed – but with Ginny, it’s a step further. He seems - oddly – _at peace_? His smile is no wider than usual and yet there’s this understated sense of calm in his eyes. There’s an unreserved manner in the way he regards her. If she didn’t know any better she would have thought that they had been friends for a long time.

Up until the last few days, she presumed that he channelled a protective big-brother aura, but now, Amelia surmises, that she needs to throw all her presumptions out the window, doesn’t she?

There’s something more, isn’t there?

What Rachel’s saying is the truth, isn’t it?)

 

 

Ironically – or maybe interestingly, it is Al Luongo who comes to the rescue, after all.

He waddles in (Amelia’s never quite sure if it’s that massive paunch or his bad leg – but he’s like a woman carrying triplets) and whistles out loud, drawing every one’s attention.

“Wow!” He drawls, crude accent colouring his words. “It’s like a goddamn circus in here.” 

The only reason Amelia doesn’t snap at him is that she’s so taken aback by his unsolicited entry. His eyes (and Amelia notices that he has kind eyes) focus on her. “I guess you must be in charge, kid” He says, nodding at her, then he shakes his head. “And by kid, I mean as you a young person, not like Bogart.”

For some reason her brain latches on to that. “Bogart?” She asks, and then regrets it immediately when Luongo prattles on about Casablanca and Ingrid Bergman.

“Okay, I get it.” She says, hurriedly. “What do you want?”

“To talk to ya.” He sighs looking around at the continuous parade of people bustling around him. “In private, maybe. _Not_ – and I’m tellin’ ya now itself. I don’t wanna be inappropriate – or anything, okay lady? I’ve got foot-in-mouth disease but I’m not a jerk.”

“Yeah, okay!” She says, waving him towards her bedroom suite.

“I want you to know my intentions are purely….”

“I get it Mr. Luongo!” She snaps, directing him inside, before sliding the doors to a close.

 

“Right!” He says, and Amelia is grateful he’s getting to the point. He pulls out a USB and hands it to her.

“Mike told me about Miss Baker’s…situation. I know a guy – these are the pictures.”

“What?”

“Y’know – the pictures she took with her ex-boyfriend – back when she was in the minors.” He snorts and shakes his head.

“I already have the pictures.”

“No, you got _copies_ of the pictures. I’ve been told there is some sort of method to pull the original upload and some spider crawls and gets stuff of the internet.”

She thinks he means a web-crawler program.

“Unfortunately I can’t use it to erase all the stupid things I’ve said in the past – because apparently, you don’t get spiders that crawl into people’s brains but – that’s it. That’s the original data and my guy’s got another spider or maybe it’s a virus – who knows - it uses some hidden data mumbo jumbo to prevent this from popping up on any server.”

“How can your guy be sure?”

“Beats me, I can’t even start up my computer without having to call up my grandkid. But –“ He shrugs. “My guy guarantees up to 90 % certainty. 10% there’s a chance it might already be up on the dark web. I can’t do anything about that.”

He frowns suddenly and looks at her. “Hey! Did you know there was such a thing as a dark web?”

She did but that wasn’t the point. Amelia is sceptical. “How can we trust your guy?”

He looks annoyed. He’s clearly a man who doesn’t like to be questioned. “You can trust my guy.”

“What does he need in return?”

“Nothing I can’t take care of.”

“I’m gonna need a name and a…”

“I told you!” He says, louder. “Nothing I can’t take care of!”

“How do we know your _guy’s_ not just going to release the photos himself?” She narrows her eyes at him.

“It’s my granddaughter alright?” He shouts, surprising Amelia. “ _She’s_ the guy.”

Amelia’s mouth drops.

“She worships Ginny.” Al says. “And she’s really good at this…stuff.”

Amelia, really, doesn’t know what to say.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, kid.” He says, dropping his voice and looking at her kindly. “I’ve been here before with my other players. He snorts and shakes his head. “I faced the same shit with Stubbs last year and with Hernandez two years ago and four years ago I had a player who was a homosexual and I cannot tell you his name but the fact that you don’t know about those dicey pictures of him and his boyfriend is because my granddaughter is as smart as her mother!” He sighs, and looks sad for an instant. “And grandmother, for that matter.”

Amelia doesn’t know whether to hug Al or to cry.

“Oh Al.” She says, taking the USB and shaking her head. “You are quite the surprise!”

“Yeah – tell me about it.” He says, like he’s constantly hearing things like that.

“So?”

“So what?” He drawls, that nasal aftertone making her eardrums tremble.

“So what does she need?” Amelia says, excitedly. “I’d love to help!”

“Oh!” Luongo frowns and then shrugs. “Baker has to make an appearance for at her New Years eve, Space-Nerd party. I spoke to Baker  - she’s already agreed.”

“Space Nerd party?” Amelia repeats, blandly.

“I dunno!” Luongo shrugs. “She’s into that stuff. ‘Party for Programmers’ she calls it. It’s her mother’s fault! I took my little girl to see Start War back in eighty four – and then she went dressed like Luke Skywalker every Halloween for three years. She fell in love with that idiot she married at some Star Wars convention. Now, they have this genius kid whose brain works at a million miles a second – and she _loves_ to throw Space themed parties for every year.”

He starts chuckling to himself and shakes his head. Amelia feels the stress and headache she’s nursing disappear in an instant.

“Y’know, Ms. Slater?” He says, making a confused expression. “In my day, when we were in love? We went to a studio and stood side by side with clothes on. If we wanted memories, we wrote letters and sent handkerchiefs and locks of hair and stuff like that.”

Amelia smiles. 

“Things sure have changed since I was a young fella.” He says, looking confused (and she finds it sweet). “Kids these days, do the darndest things!”

 

 

She started researching it from just after Luongo leaves – because she is always preparing contingencies.

It doesn’t seem so reprehensible, she thinks, when she goes through the her searches.

It can’t be any different than when doctors hook up with doctors or cops hook up with cops. There’s a common factor, there’s an understanding of each other’s goals and motivations that cannot be expected from a lay person.

Agassi and Graaf in tennis, Granato and Ferraro in hockey, Parker and Williams in basketball. There’s enough to support the idea of a ‘Baker and Lawson’, if it should ever to come to it. There’s always Daigle and Finch to rely on, if it’s purely singled down to baseball.

Some players like Jackie Joyner-Kersee and Flo-Jo even marry their coaches.

Except – none of these men and women were active teammates.  None of those amazing, strong, athletic women were the first female players on a major-league team filled with men. Most relationships were declared only after retirement.

And Ginny was just starting out.

Ginny is the pioneer. Ginny is the yardstick. Ginny is benchmark.

Ginny held the future of gender integrated sports in her hands.

If tomorrow, they ever selected a woman for the NBA, it would very well be because Ginny Baker made it into MLB. 

For _years_ – even centuries, women, have been labelled as sexual distractions in a male dominated working environment. Amelia’s had enough personal experience with more sexual misconducts than she can count.  For years, women have had to fight for opportunities because they wouldn’t get hired, out of fear of fraternization or liability to harassment.

If tomorrow, Lawson or Ginny stepped across the boundary lines of whatever dance those two are doing, it might just be a story-of-the-moment for Lawson in a twenty-four-hour news cycle. But for Ginny - (Amelia feels palpitations as she imagines the commentary: _disappointment as a role model, a bad example for women in sports.) -_

Ginny would be ripped apart.

 

 

He’s waiting down at the lobby when she walks down for her lunch appointment. She’s not entirely surprised, seeing the number of calls she missed from him that morning.

But she has other priorities. They still must do the interview with Rachel Patrick and Amelia needs to screen the questions.

“Amelia.” Mike says, quietly, following her as she stalks past him into the dining room.

“We’re over.” She says, in her soft, stern voice.

“Amelia, come on.” He reaches her hand to her elbow.

“No!” She hisses and whirls around, letting her anger flash through her eyes. “You were right. We’re not definable. And – Ginny comes first for me. So – we are _not_ doing this anymore.”

He pursues his mouth and puffs out his cheeks. (He looks like one of those WWE wrestlers grunting – but in a cute way.) She has half a mind to call him out on it. To confront him about his relationship with Ginny – but she decides against it.  As a rule, she never takes decisions when she’s sleep deprived, exhausted and cranky.

“Oh! I’m sorry.” A soft, sweet voice interrupts.

Amelia closes her eyes and exhales. Of course, Rachel Patrick _has_ to stumble on them, right then.

“Rach.” Mike bites out, nodding at his ex.

“Lovers spat?” Rachel says, sounding annoyingly cheery.

Mike whips around at looks at Rachel in disbelief. Amelia interjects before it spirals out. “No.” She says. “Shall we go through the questions?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking of doing something different.” Rachel says. “The whole journey to the Padres is done and dusted…I’d like to know more about how she’s doing, now. What sort of…relationships she’d developed with her teammates, past and present?”

Rachel looks about as innocent as a child. Mike shrugs, like he knows he’s not even supposed to be privvy to the conversation. But Amelia – Amelia knows what Rachel’s hinting at.

“What do you think, Mike?” Rachel turns to her ex, sounding sickeningly sweet to Amelia by the minute.

“What do I think about what?” He says, sounding irritated. Amelia sees that he’s still uncomfortable around her.

“About Ginny’s relationships with her teammates.”

“Baker’s doing fine.”

“Oh I’m sure she is, but we’d love to get a teammate’s perspective on her. Especially her captain.”

Mike looks pensive for a second, biting the inside of his cheek and then looks at Rachel suspiciously. “You’re making that face.”

“What face?”

“The face you make when you’re up to something and you’re gonna do something evil.”

The tone has a hint of accusation but to Amelia’s complete and utter surprise, his face transmutes and he breaks into a wide charming grin (as though Rachel magically turned into some old friend and that’s not an ex-wife standing there).

With that – Amelia has no idea how – he somehow manages cut the tension in the air that’s circulating between the three of them.

He tips his head towards Rachel and looks at Amelia. “Always loved that about her.” He says, appreciatively ( as though he has absolutely no qualms about dredging up his past )

His ex-wife’s suddenly looking disconcerted and blushing to shade that’s close to the colour of her hair – like a schoolgirl.

Amelia snorts, shaking her head. (There’s always that thing about that Lawson. That confident, charismatic, witty persona – but this is way beyond his repertoire of tricks. A future in politics may not be such a far-fetched idea.)

“What are you up to Rach?” He says, in sing-song rather bedroomy voice.

(No wonder women fell for him. What else could appear to them about a guy who looks like a puffy lumberjack – on a good day?)

If Amelia hadn’t known what a hardass Rachel was, she might have missed the coy expression that flashes on her face.

“Nothing.” Rachel says, visibly failing to straighten her face and not smile.  “I just think it’s a good perspective that’s all.”

“So, how’s it going?” He says, his face flinching a little. “The wedding I mean.”

“Good.” She says, her face falling a little.

“Good.” He nods. “Look, I’m sorry – this – it’s been difficult for me. I just – I want you to know that I wish you ever happiness. Rach. You deserve it.”

Rachel’s mouth widens. She’s clearly rendered speechless. Amelia’s pretty dumbstruck herself.

She looks in the direction of the dining roo and then (and Amelia’s not mistaking this here – she’s actually flapping her eyelids at Mike when-) she says. “Joining us?”

“Er – no!” Mike says, smiling like he genuinely means it. “I’ve got stuff to day. Y’know. So – you ladies go ahead. I’ll see you ‘round.”

Rachel smiles sweetly, turns around and heads to a table by the corner near the window.

The minute she’s out of sight Mike’s face straightens and he looks at her smugly.

“What?” Amelia snaps.

“You’re welcome.” He says, nodding his head in the direction of his ex-wife.

“For what?”

“I don’t know what Rachel has on Baker, Amelia.” He says, shrugging. “But I’ll tell you this. She’s not going to be using it, at least not for now.”

Amelia nods stupidly when he winks at her, turns around and walks away.

He’s no fool, that man.

 

 

Amelia opts to have Ginny wear a deep blue business dress that matches the _Padres_ blue with a cream-yellow jacket for the interview with Rachel Patrick. She steps back and looks approvingly at her _Pygmalion_. The face of Ginny Baker TM, looks self-assured, beautiful and she totally rocks the power dress. Her face doesn’t carry that unbearable worry she’s been living with for the last couple of days.

A knock sounds on the door and Mike Lawson struts in. Amelia doesn’t smile at him, and she knows that Ginny throws them both odd looks. He gives Amelia a curt nod once before turning to Ginny.

(And - Amelia doesn’t miss _that_ look on his face.) He blows out a low whistle (-  and Amelia also knows the pink on Ginny’s cheek is not powder blush.)

“What are you doing here?” Ginny says, smiling shyly, adjusting her jacket.

“I’m here to offer you unconditional support on behalf of the San Diego _Padres_.” He says in a voice that sounds practiced and robotic.

“No, you’re not.” She says, wrinkling her nose.

“No, I’m not.” He nods, grinning at her. “I’m here with my lawyer. There was – uh - some stuff to finish up – with Rachel.” Amelia notices the way Mike’s eyes shift towards her, warily. Amelia ducks her head and pretends to be absorbed with her phone.

“Oh.” Ginny says. (Amelia notes that Ginny doesn’t ask for any reasons.)

“Rachel wants my boat.” She hears Mike speak in a hushed whisper.

 “You have a boat?” Ginny hisses.

“I _had_ a boat.” He says. “A yacht, actually. It’s Rachel’s now.”

Amelia looks up and Mike’s eyes meet hers. Something about that look in her eyes makes her uncomfortable.

He shrugs. “I mean, technically she bought it for me. For my birthday.”

“She bought you a boat?” Ginny’s eyes widen.

“With my money,” He says, making a face. “But she’s co-owner as per the contract.”

“Wow.” Ginny raises her eyebrows. “Why now?”

Amelia watches that longing, sad smile that Mike gives her.

“Uhm.” He says. “Some irregularities with the coast guard at the time of our alimony settlements.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I was being a possessive jerk. I guess, it’s time to let some things go.”

He’s lying. Amelia knows he is.

Ginny pouts her mouth and goes to pinch her lower lip. She stops just as she’s about to grasp it, probably realizing that she has lipstick on.

“What?” Mike says, in a high-pitched voice.

“You’re lying, Old Man.” Ginny says, plainly.

He shrugs.

“She’s got something on you.” Amelia notices Ginny peering into Mike’s face.

He shakes his head.

“Or…on me?” Ginny ducks her head, looking at him peculiarly.

He shakes his head. Amelia notices that he. “You’re not that important, Baker. No matter what your agent tells you.” He says, looking down at Ginny’s dress (but Amelia suspects he doesn’t want to meet Ginny’s eyes).

When Ginny opens her mouth, he stops her. “Gotta go now. Give her hell. Remember, she took my boat. If ever you and I get bitten by wanderlust and we wanna sail the seven seas, we’re gonna have to settle for Blip’s dinghy.”

“Blip has a dinghy?” Ginny exclaims in disbelief.

Mike looks sheepish. He makes an apologetic grimace. “Yeaaah,” He drawls, softly. “Don’t tell his missus.”

“Do you even know how to sail?” She asks as he exits.

He turns around and gives her an adorable smirk. “How hard can it be?” He says, in a high-pitched voice. “Besides.” His voice drops as his eyes stay focussed on Ginny. “You’ll be there, right?”

 

 

 

“Mike!” Amelia hisses, running after him.

“What?” He says bluntly, turning around. It seems to Amelia that he has no doubt that she would chase him down.

“What is it?” She says. “What are you hiding?”

He seems tired – like he neither has the energy or the mood to lie or hide whatever he’s holding. He regards her and then sighs out loud.

“Trevor Davis’ agent called up Rachel’s people.” Mike says. “He says he wants to go on record and say he loved Ginny and that it was Ginny’s decision to end it.”

“What?” Amelia grit her teeth. “How come I didn’t know?”

“Rachel was going to spring it on her.” Mike says. “I told you – “ He shrugs. “She was up to something.”

“Wow!” Amelia says, sarcastically. “What an asshole.”

“Yeah!” Mike snorts sarcastically. “He was going to try and make himself out to be the victim. I’ll make sure Baker kicks his ass the next time we play the Cardinals. That’ll teach him.”

“But I thought – in the afternoon when you came by…”

“There’s a _way_ to deal with Rachel,” Mike says, sounding remarkably his age and very much wiser than his usual self. “Trust me. She wouldn’t have let this go. She likes to make people uncomfortable.”

“How did you find out?”

“ _That_ is not for you to know.” He says, firmly.

“Mike!” She urges.

He looks in the direction of the dressing room. “Baker’s got enough to deal with as it is. I’m not risking it. She doesn’t owe me anything, but she’ll thinks she does after this.”

“You had to give up your boat, for this?” Amelia says, surprised.

Mike runs his tongue over his teeth and shrugs.

“Rachel fought me for that boat for a long time. I managed to keep it but…” He sighs and waves his hand. “Ah! Whatever! It’s just a boat.”

“Mike.” Amelia says, feeling a great deal of sympathy for him.

“Look, you may never get this – “ He says. “But, not all of us, ballplayers are jerks. I know Baker’s been given the short end of the stick, all her life because she's a girl. I’ve been there, in the minors. It was – cruel, Amelia. I can only imagine what she’s been through. And, before you came along…before I came along…she’s had to fight it out all on her own. I’m not above judgement either, I wasn’t fair to her in the beginning…” He lifts his hand in the direction of Ginny’s dressing room and nods. “She’s my Rookie. She’s got enough on her plate. Ever since she’s come on, I’ve been seeing her face nothing but scandal after scandal and ninety nine percent of the time it’s not her fault! But she still steps up on that mound and gives it her very best. That's something I respect the hell out of.”

Amelia nods, feeling her eyes sting. “Mike.” Amelia sighs, feeling a rush of emotion.

“If I can protect her, I will. It’s what we do.” Mike says, nodding his head. “As teammates, okay? It’s what we do as friends. I’m the captain. I lead by example. And I know…that one day, Ginny’s going to do the same for another player on her team, heck! Maybe for the next female major leaguer.”

Amelia stays motionless.

“It’s what being a ballplayer is. It’s what being _Padre_ is.” His voice drops. He shakes his head. “I gave my life to this game.” His voice wavers as he speaks. “ _That_ –“ He points to the dressing room. “Is the future of this game.” His eyes are filled with a fierceness when he looks at her. “I’ll be damned if I let a bunch of stupid photographs or a motherfucker like Davis ruin it.”

He grinds his teeth and exhales out – a mask going up on his face. “Make of that…” He says, in an even tone. “Whatever you will.”

Amelia exhales out as he turns.

“Mike – I’m sorry.” She whispers.

“Yeah, so am I.” He mutters and walks off.

 

 

Ginny’s laughing when Amelia re-enters the room. She’s joking and goofing about, she’s even singing songs and dancing around with the stylists every now and then as they wait. Her infectious smile and positive energy fills everyone around them.

Amelia looks on her with the admiration and affection she felt for her the first time she saw that girl pitch. She captivates everyone around her.

It’s not hard to see why any man would fall in love with Ginny Baker, Amelia realizes, with a slight twinge of pity for Mike.

Amelia sighs and leans back watching Ginny, thinking of how Mike side-tracked Rachel earlier that afternoon, without even knowing half the story. Thinking of the sacrifice he made, the effort he took to pacify his wife for a person he’s not even dating.

She downs two bottles of water and thinks it over carefully.

Amelia had come into this game of getting Ginny Baker into the major leagues with a blanket prejudice against all the men and a vow to Will Baker that she would protect his sister. She expected some surprises, but these last two days have just completely blown her away.

Somehow, she feels she’s miscalculated and misjudged everything – even for an outsider, she’s screwed up badly.

She’s known Ginny longer, but the way Mike stands up for her – the way he appreciates her – the way he consoles her. It’s like on some strange level he understands her better than anyone else.

 _“She just wants to play ball!”_ He had said.

He’s never been a pig. She’s known that. He has never seen Ginny as some object. She’s also known that. He’s not a manipulative man who will just fuck around for his own benefit. There’s a reason that Ginny looks up to him. There’s a reason that his teammates admire him. He might idly fuck all the women in the country but he won’t screw around with his teammates.

Unless, there is yet something in this world that overpowers age, maturity and experience.

Love.

 _Even so,_ if there is love, after what he’s seen today, he’s very unlikely to cross that forbidden line.

Even, if he _doesn’t_ know, yet, that he’s in love with Ginny Baker, he knows what price scandal brings.

But what about Ginny?

Ginny is so young. Ginny is so eager. She so desperately craves the approval and love of her father and Mike fits into that role so easily. Protective and compassionate.

Her fishbowl of a life is a lonely one and she so achingly desires connection. She holds her secrets and her emotions tightly wound under a barrier of smiles and stoicism – but inside, she needs to share it, she needs someone to entrust that burden to.

And – what can be more attractive to a woman than a man who gives her the attention she needs, especially if it is one whom she looks up to?

Amelia sighs out long and hard.

 

 

Eliot, once, showed her a 3D rendered video of a charged particle interaction – matter and antimatter collision or something. The positive and negative ions were drawn into each other and annihilated on the spot and dissipating into pure energy, that exploded outwards everywhere.

She wonders if that is what it would be like with Mike and Ginny. 

The best and least likely thing that could come out of their relationship was - a marriage. That _would_ , in all probability, end Ginny’s career in a respectable fashion, but end it, nevertheless. The more plausible thing would be that Mike who _thirteen_ years her senior, who already was at the near-end of his career, would wake up in the middle of a midlife crisis and expect children while Ginny would be peaking at her prime – again, ending Ginny’s career. The worst thing that would happen, and this is what Amelia’s concerned about is - that Ginny’s heart would be broken in the worst manner possible by the one person who holds a dangerous command over it.

No matter how honourable his intentions are now, Amelia never places any bets on the future.

It wouldn’t just end Ginny Baker’s career. It would end Ginny Baker.

 

 

Amelia knows she’s manipulative. She doesn’t apologize for it. But she has her limits. Now, something creeps up in her mind and it makes her feel sick about herself.

Can she find it in herself to be so ruthless? Ginny _is_ her friend. Mike’s something close to that.

But, if she doesn’t do this, now. If she doesn’t play this card, right now, she may very well be compromising Ginny’s heart and Ginny’s luminous future.

So, she makes her choice.

 

 

“Hey!” Amelia says, once they’re alone.

“Are you okay, Amelia?” Ginny asks, concern colouring her husky voice. “I know you’ve been working overtime, but you look really tired.”

“Yeah, I am.” Amelia says. “And, I’ve got some personal stuff going on as well.”

Ginny looks surprised. Amelia knows why she is – Amelia never divulges personal information.

“Do you need to share?” Ginny says, looking uncertain.

“I consider you a friend, G.” Amelia says, smiling at her.

“Well, that’s good to know.” Ginny smiles. “I consider you a friend as well Amelia.”

“I don’t have that many female friends.” Amelia sighs. “It’s tough in my line of work.”

Ginny nods. “Yeah I know, what that’s like. But, you’ve got one in me.”

Amelia moistens her lips and nods. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Mike. You _must_ know that. It wasn’t meant to be anything more than a casual relationship. And we _never_ meant to hurt you. We never discuss you or talk about you like some teenager that we’re saddled with.”

Ginny’s smile fades a little but doesn’t completely go away. She nods.

“Believe me, G.” Amelia says (and she _really_ , does mean what she says – right up to this point).

“I think, you guys make a great couple.” Ginny says, slowly.

Amelia knows that Ginny’s isn’t being entirely, truthful, but she knows that Ginny’s gentle, loving heart will nevertheless seek the best for everyone.

Amelia nods. She forces her brain to act, forces her voice to be convincing, she shoves her conscience down, forces the parts of her that are truthful to take the backseat. She seeks out the person inside that’s a good friend and stabs her in the chest.

“I think…” Amelia says. “I think I like him a lot. I think that…maybe, he likes me too. In a more than, friends-with-benefits kind of way?”

That half-smile is still on, but Ginny’s eyes grow cold.

Amelia adjusts the intonation of her voice, trying to sound vulnerable. “And I’m scared – I don’t usually give my heart out so easily. Y’know? Men take and they never really understand how painful and complicated this all is for us.”

Ginny’s voice is hollow. “Oh.”

“My last relationship nearly ripped me to shreds. I barely escaped with a broken heart.”

Ginny looks at her sympathetically.

“Mike’s not like that but…. I’m scared of – putting faith in him. Which is tough – because he seems to like me, a lot.”

Ginny’s smile has completely disappeared now.

Amelia feels sicker with every growing moment. She pummels out that wave of nausea keeping it away from her face. Ginny nods slowly. Amelia feels like knifing her wrists when she sees Ginny’s innocent brown eyes glisten for a moment before she steels up and sets her jaw.

“Oh. Well.” Ginny’s husky voice seems more choked. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Amelia shrugs and looks down.

“Mike’s a – Mike’s a great guy.” Ginny says. “He’s a –“ Amelia looks up and catches Ginny’s affectionate eye roll. “He can be an asshat, at times. But – at heart he’s a gentleman.” Ginny starts to nod (Amelia suspects that Ginny is reaffirming her own belief in Mike, more than trying to convince her).

Amelia nods and smiles at her.

“And, I think he likes you too.” Ginny says, in a small voice. “You can trust him. You should. And I think he needs someone like you, too. Y’know? Beautiful, strong – caring. I think that if you both give this a fair, unbiased shot – you uh – you might find happiness.”

Amelia nods and sits back when Ginny is called by a production assistant. She notices the small tear that lingers at the corners of Ginny’s eyes even when she gathers herself.

Amelia’s lip quivers when Ginny leaves the room, she bites back a sob, but doesn’t let her tears slip.

 

 

 

She turns up at Mike’s house that evening and apologizes. She makes up some story about being stressed and says she wants to try again (even though, she really doesn’t). He doesn’t rebuke her, even once. He smiles at her tenderly and offers her dinner.

He’s distant when they have sex afterwards. She’s hardened up her heart not to care - she knows her relationship with Mike won’t last. His affections and attentions, feel forced and artificial to Amelia – and she’s okay with it. It’s good enough for an itch that needs to be scratched and if it veers both Ginny and him out of each other’s paths, she’s fine with being the other woman in this fucked up this incorporeal connection that Mike and Ginny share.

Neither of them can sleep.

Amelia, puts her clothes on and goes to his living room to watch the late airing of Ginny’s interview with Rachel Patrick. He joins her – sits beside her in silence. It’s the first time they’ve done anything remotely resembling what normal couples might do when they’re not fucking.

Except it feels so odd. She feels more disconnected from him that before.

She steals glances at Mike and sees that look in his eyes as he watches Ginny talk, with growing dread and apprehension.

The wonder, the amazement – that spurting uncontrollable smile that he tries not to show.

Amelia swallows a dry lump in her throat and then starts to speak.

“I think that Trevor Davis used her back then, to gain traction on his scouts.” Amelia says.

Mike’s head snaps to her. She sees a sliver of anger that is replaced immediately by a mask. He doesn’t say anything.

“I think, if Ginny had never gone public with their relationship, he would not have made it to the Cardinals. She was getting popular those days and you know, the fact that she didn’t date ballplayers was no secret. I mean, I think he liked her and all but…”

She notices his fists clench as his head turns slowly towards the TV. He doesn’t say a word.

“I use that strategy all the time in public relations.” She says, looking at the TV. “I get someone who’s famous and a bit snobbish to show interest in someone who’s probably not…and people start taking interest in that person.”

She can see him nod from the corner of her eyes.

“Think about it.” Amelia says, choosing her words carefully, keeping an eye on his side profile. “He was talking to Ginny about applying for college. He never told her that he was being scouted.”

“Yeah, he’s dickhead.” Mike mutters and reaches for a beer bottle on the coffee table. She perceives the way his thumbnail picks at the damp sticker.

“Workplace relationships are complicated as it is.” Amelia says, turning to look at him, trying not to dwell on how he clenches his jaw. “I mean, for women, particularly. It doesn’t affect a man’s career the way it affects a woman. I know it sounds like extreme bra-burning when I talk about it but – I’m just calling it as I see it.”

He nods, but doesn’t look at her. “Yeah, it makes sense.” He says, in a hollow voice.

“He was…” Amelia says, emphatically. “On his way out.”

Mike is an unreadable man, and that beard – doesn’t help in reading his facial expression, but, Amelia can see the stormy expression in his eyes when he turns to look at her.

“I mean, if he really loved her. Or even cared about her.” Amelia says. “He would never have crossed that line, right?”

A small grimace twitches at the corner of his lips.

She smiles and then clears her throat. “Do you get what I’m trying to say?”

“Yeah.” He says, his voice choked up. The whites of his eyes turn red and they’re glistening for a brief second before he blinks.

A growing mixture of trepidation and self-loathing fills the empty corners and vacant recesses of her heart and brain alike.

 _Oh God. Oh God. Oh God._ Amelia thinks.

_He knows._

_He knows he’s in love with her._

 

 

The mathematics of chaos theory is that in a complex system, whose behaviour is highly sensitive to slight changes in conditions - even, the smallest alternations can give rise to strikingly great consequences.

At one end of the equation is Ginny Baker. Whose trust earned so precariously, once given, never wavered. Ginny will never pursue Mike if she thought that a friend had feelings for him. It was an unwritten, unspoken benefit of Ginny’s friendship.

At the other end of the equation is Mike Lawson. Noble leader, a formidable player, and passionate man who loved Ginny Baker. Mike will never pursue Ginny, if there are even remote chances of harmful consequences of indulging in his feelings. For man who proclaims to be selfish, there is a honourable inherent selflessness that is as pure as gold.

At the heart of it all is Amelia Slater, beneficiary of Ginny’s trust and unwitting witness to Mike’s deepest secret.

Amelia Slater, unapologetic manipulative bitch that she was – who used Ginny’s loyalty against her and used Mike’s love against him.

Amelia Slater, heartless and selfish - for the greater good. Even if she knows that no justification makes what she has done any less unforgivable.   

She succeeds at turning around the PR disaster that those photos might have been; Ginny gives one hell of an interview with Rachel Patrick. She succeeds in ensuring that the efforts Mike took doesn’t go in vain; Trevor Davis’ name does not come up in relation to Ginny Baker for a while; Ginny’s endorsement value goes up; Amelia sees a growing trend of respect towards her as a player.

Maybe she has even succeeded in protecting Ginny’s heart and career in the long run by inflicting a cruel and deliberate rift into Ginny and Mike’s connection that is eventually reflected in increasing distance in their relationship, on and off the field.

Amelia Slater is indeed at the heart of it all.

Amelia Slater - who knows she can postpone the inevitable for only so long.

They _will_ gravitate towards each other.

She hopes that, that day will come when it isn’t such a terrible thing for the first woman in major league baseball and the team captain who directed her path to glory, fell in love.

Until then, Amelia knows she’s done the worst thing she could possibly have done to a friend, even if it is in the hope of the best possible outcome.

It’s how Chaos Theory works in life.

You pick the lesser of all evils and hope that the end justifies the means. 

 ---end---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Da da dun.  
> There may or may not be an epilogue with is fluffy/smutty. Depends on how much noise I hear.   
> (evil smirk and disappears in a puff of smoke)

**Author's Note:**

> Do review.


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